


A Year to Love Me

by Pixiepeekboo



Category: 365 days - Fandom, 365 dni
Genre: 365 DNI - Freeform, 365 days, Beauty and the beast retelling, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fanfic, Fluff, Modern AU, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:27:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 34,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiepeekboo/pseuds/Pixiepeekboo
Summary: 365 Days reworked, because I'm obsessed and why not?**Currently on Hiatus**Hi, Everyone! Thank you for taking the time to read this little piece. I only update this once in a blue moon. I love and appreciate every single one of you for taking such an interest in this spontaneous fic. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sticking around. For all newcomers, I can only say - Welcome to update torture lol
Relationships: Laura x Massimo
Comments: 117
Kudos: 358





	1. Birthday Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if anyone besides me will be interested in this, but I thought I'd post chapters as I write them, because I am a sucker for this kind of escapist fantasy, however trashy it might be.  
> I'm going to use what I liked from the film, build and delete scenes, pop in new moments...ah, the power of fanfiction! LOL  
> Hope you like it! :D

The raging beat of the drums throbbed through Laura’s veins. She was newly turned twenty-four, single, with a flourishing career in front of her. It felt as though the entire night belonged to her, everything about the moment twisted in her favor. She shimmied against Olga, her best friend, and eternal traveling partner. They’d made it to the shores of Sicily early this morning, and since their arrival, they’d refused to rest.

“This night feels like magic,” Laura said, tipping her head back to examine the bank of endless sky, sprinkled with salt-like stars.

Olga laughed. “It’s your birthday, girl,” she said. “It is magic. I bet if you made a wish, right now, it would come true.” She waggled her eyebrows, then danced her way back to the bar, leaving Laura alone on the dance floor.

Laura was an adult: obviously, her age could attest to that. But the night was breathless and electric. It hummed with a thousand possibilities. In the dark, listening to the feral beat of the drums and the sting of alcohol down her throat, she believed in magic. Fate. Endless wishes, if you only wanted it enough.

She closed her eyes and thought. What would she wish for? She had a secure job that she loved, even more for the challenge of it. As a birthday gift, her parents had helped her pay off the last of her student loans. She shared an apartment with Olga. What she craved, what she wanted most at the moment, was intimacy. Someone to love and be close to. All the relationships she’d ever had never lasted. They were either using her to get close to Olga (not that she could blame them; her friend was stunning and unobtainable – they thought they could use Laura as a stepladder to get closer to her, which ultimately never worked) or thought of her as some little, delicate girl. When they touched her, it was as if she was made of glass, as if they were rough with her, if they even really held her the way she wanted to be held, she would break.

But the problem was, she thought, those were all boys. What she needed was a man. That’s what she would wish for, she decided. A man who would know how to touch her and tease her and love her better than the rest of the world. Someone to challenge her, mentally and physically.

Laura kissed the tips of her fingers, sealing the wish, and blew it toward the universe stretched above her head. Then she spun around, to follow Olga to the bar to tell her what she’d wished for.

She collided with her destiny instead.


	2. Wish Granted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura meets Massimo for the first time.

Their bodies crashed into one another. Laura yelped as she teetered backward. Her arms windmilled, the cup sailing out of her fingers to douse the person she’d tripped into. Serve them right, she thought, for not looking where they were going.

“Sorry!” Hands caught her by the waist and dragged her back upright. Her bare feet rolled, not quite finding their footing, but it had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen stealing her body’s sense of equilibrium.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She gripped his arms and struggled to regain her balance. “Yes,” she managed to say at last. “I’m sorry for...running into you.”

She darted a look at his face and instantly felt heat stain her cheeks. He grinned. Dimples sliced each cheek, and his dark brown eyes sparkled. His hands curled more tightly around her waist, as if they were meant to be there. As if he was rather enjoying her proximity. Laura would be lying if she said that she didn’t enjoy it, too.

“I’m not,” he said. His voice was thick and throaty and unapologetically Italian. She wanted to swallow the sound. Scratch that, she wanted to eat him alive. His hands were hot and possessive against her waist. Or maybe it was only because she wanted them to be.

“Laura,” she said, sticking her hand between them.

The young man studied her face. Then, still grinning devilishly, he grabbed her wrist and pressed an open mouthed kiss against her palm, licking up to her wrist. She arched her back instinctively, as if it wasn’t her hand he was licking but between her legs. She released a sound she hadn’t even known she was capable of making.

Her hand trembled as he looked up at her. She hadn’t admired his mouth properly, before, she realized. His lips were thick, with a dip in the upper one that made her want to bite it. He had a mouth made for kissing. Aggressive kissing. The sort of breathless, maniacal kissing that Laura was desperate to experience.

“Massimo,” he drawled. “Nice to meet you, Laura.” Her name was a purr on his lips. “Please, let me get you a drink, since I made you spill your last one.”

“Okay,” she said. 

His grin widened and she realized she’d been staring.

She allowed him to lace his fingers through hers. His hands were so big, they completely engulfed hers. They were also rougher than she’d expected, calluses pleasantly scraping her skin. She swallowed, following him to the bar. He leaned against the counter, leaving the bar stool for her. She sat on it and gently kicked her feet, trying to get rid of the frantic energy shaking through her core. 

“So,” he said, after they’d ordered their drinks and were waiting for them, “what brings you to Sicily?”

Her hand was laying palm up between them. With his pinkie finger, he traced the outline of it, up and around and between every finger as if it was nothing, as if he wasn’t turning her inside out with his touch.

“Oh,” she said, wondering where Olga was so she could show off this outrageously hunky specimen of man that she’d discovered, “I’m vacationing for my birthday. Twenty-four,” she cheered, throwing her free arm in the air and swaying lightly on her stool.

“Happy birthday,” he said. Laura swore the rumble of his voice reverberated directly between her legs. He was making her shamelessly horny. She couldn’t remember the last time when she’s wanted to jump someone’s bones this badly. She didn’t know this man. For all she knew, he had a girlfriend. 

“Thank you,” she said.

He cocked his head. “If you don’t mind my asking,” he said, “before I ran into you, what were you thinking about?”

Her eyes widened. His swarthy skin turned slightly pink. “You looked so peaceful,” he continued quickly, “I’d never seen anyone look so completely satisfied and happy before.”

Her leg jerked out farther than she intended, and her foot touched his thigh. He glanced down, to track the movement. Did she imagine it, or did he breathe faster? Tipping her head to the side, she spoke, drawing his attention back to her face.

“If you must know,” she said, “I was making a birthday wish.”

She searched his face, waiting for him to laugh at her for being so jejune. But he didn’t laugh. He merely looked thoughtful. Laura drew her foot back against his leg, and locking eyes with him, let it stroke downward, toward his knee.

“What did you wish for?” he asked.

She curled her foot around the back of his knee and nudged him closer to her, so he was standing between her legs. “You,” she breathed. She grabbed the collar of his button down shirt and dragged him down to her. If he has someone who’s important to him, she thought belatedly, he would pull back. He would tell her that there was someone else; that he was flattered, but he wasn’t here to pick anyone up, that he wasn’t attracted to her like that.

Except he didn’t.

At the first petal-soft push of her lips against his, he made a keening noise of surprise and glee in the back of his throat. Her hands were threaded deep in his mess of dark brown curls, and she was half rising from the stool, to align her body against his. He turned his head, deepening the kiss with a bite and a growl, one of his hands grabbing her by the back of the neck to tip her exactly the way he wanted, his other hand snaking around her waist and lifting her completely off the stool to dangle against him. She mounted him – legs curled around his hips, hands falling from his curls to twine around his neck.

He tasted the way kisses were supposed to: vibrant and electric, vivid as candy. It reminded her of Pop rocks – each kiss explosive against her lips, her tongue. She bit his upper lip, because she wanted to, and he released a groan so deep it split her in two.

“Are you – are you sure,” he broke from her mouth, though he didn’t draw back far – every word he formed had his lips skimming against hers. She nodded against him.

“Show me what you Italian boys are good for,” she said. Her eyes opened and she grinned at him. His mouth quirked up on one side, as if he couldn’t quite believe his luck. He planted a final, lingering kiss on her mouth, making her legs flex around his waist and her toes curl against his back.

“I’ll take that challenge, birthday girl,” he said. He headed toward the steps leading away from the dance floor toward the hotel when someone moved to block the path in front of them. Laura didn’t notice at first, but to be fair, she was sucking his neck, right between the edge of his jaw. She was absolutely feral for the scrape of his stubble beneath her lips and against her cheek. She wanted to feel it against every part of her body.

“Massimo, where have you been?” A disapproving voice asked.

Laura detached her mouth from Massimo’s throat, as unwilling to do it as she was, to look at the speaker. Massimo’s arms tightened around her. She could have sighed. That. That was how she was supposed to be held. This was what she needed. She wanted him to leave marks all over her body, evidence that she could take as good as she could give.

“Avoiding you. What do you want?” One of his hands followed the line of her spine over the curve of her ass, then moved beneath it and pressed so close against where she was already throbbing with want for him that she had to bite down against his shoulder to keep from making an indecent sound in front of these people he apparently knew.

There were actually two men blocking the staircase, equally bald and muscular, as if they’d been plucked from some child’s toybox and made life size. They also looked pissed.

“Your father is looking for you,” one of them said. “You shouldn’t be out here. We’re here on business. You know that. Not,” here a scathing look was directed at Laura, “pleasure.”

Massimo sighed. “The meeting is tomorrow, not right now.” He tried to step past them, but they shifted so there was no way he could pass. “Please.”

Neither of them answered. Reluctantly, he lowered Laura to the ground. She couldn’t believe it. The first time she found a man she was willing to sleep with immediately, on her birthday, when magic was clearly happening because men like him didn’t just run into girls like her, and her moment was being stolen from her.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows. “That’s it? You’re going to walk away from me?” she demanded. Honestly, she should have seen this coming, but she wanted him so badly that she’d mistaken herself for someone who actually got men like this. 

“Tomorrow,” he said, after staring at her a long moment. “I’ll meet you tomorrow. Give you a birthday that you’ll remember. I promise.”

She trembled, locking her knees together. His voice was enough to make her light headed. She wanted to tackle him to the ground. All her life, she could have sworn she knew what attraction was like, could have sworn she’d experienced lust. But it was nothing like this. This consumed her. The thought of letting him get away without experiencing him on that level actually made her feel sick.

She opened her mouth, to release her outrage on him and possibly plead because she needed this stranger in ways she couldn’t even describe.

But he said, “Meet me at the beach, near the cove. In the late afternoon, right before sunset. I promise I’ll meet you there.”

Laura wanted to whine. What if she lost her bravado by tomorrow? What if her common sense returned? Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing, she thought. This young man looked and felt dangerous. Maybe this was supposed to happen.

“Fine,” she said.

She crossed her arms and watched him climb the steps after what she assumed were his bodyguards (why did he need bodyguards? Was he famous and she hadn’t realized it? Olga would probably know). He stopped before he reached the top and turned back to her. He came at her so quickly she didn’t have time to prepare. Massimo crashed into her, hands on either side of her face, kissing and sucking and biting – tattooing his mouth into her memory, burning his touch through her very core. He was going to wreck her for kisses, after this. No one could possibly live up to this level of euphoria.

He broke away with a look so satisfied, so male, she wanted to kick him between the legs, except that might damage the goods before she could experience them, and she wasn’t willing to take that risk.

“Tomorrow,” he said, and then he was gone.

Laura’s legs were gelatin. Screw it. She’d wait on that beach every day for the rest of her life if that meant she’d encounter him.

Turning in a wobbly circle, she staggered back to the bar to find her friend.


	3. Childish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and Olga head to the beach to meet Massimo.

“Obviously I’m not letting you go alone,” Olga said, from where she sprawled on the hotel bed, eating pretzel bits and drinking a glass of beer. “What if he’s part of the mafia?” She snickered, rolling onto her stomach.

Laura gave her a look over her shoulder. “Please. The mafia, really? That’s the best you could come up with?” She smoothed her hands down over her dress. It was the richest shade of blue she’d ever seen, and every time she wore it, she possessed this super human ability of making men helpless. Since Massimo seemed to do the same to her, she was simply returning the favor by wearing it for him.

“I still can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” she said. She spun back to face Olga, eyebrows raised.

Olga lifted her glass. “My thoughts exactly.”

Laura couldn’t hold back her smile. “You aren’t trying that hard to dissuade me.”

Sucking pretzel salt from her finger, Olga rose from the bed. “Well,” she said, snuggling her arms around Laura, “if he’s as sexy as you claim he is, it’s my duty as your best friend to encourage you to get the Sicilian experience of a lifetime.” She kissed her cheek. “Are you ready? I’m ready. I’m feeling these bewildering notions of excitement toward this sucker.” She padded over to where she’d kicked out of her shoes and shuffled them on.

Laura grabbed her sweater, the room key, and her own shoes. “All right, let’s go find ourselves Massimo.” She locked the hotel room door behind them. It was easy to forget her insecurities with her friend by her side. Honestly, she was excited to see where this afternoon would end. Hopefully with Massimo between her legs. She shrieked, grabbing hold of Olga’s hand and dragged her after her down the staircase, across the sidewalk, to the boardwalk leading to the beach.

She drank the heat of the day and relished the sizzle of sunshine against her skin. She almost wanted it to be brighter, hotter, more vicious, that she might delve into the moment even more. This was more daring than she’d ever been in her life. Everything else she’d ever done had been carefully planned and rearranged. Tidy, controlled order.

The sand was hot and powdery beneath their feet. Laura tossed aside her shoes and sweater and bounded straight for the waves. Olga smacked her lips against her palm and blew Laura a kiss.

“You’re on your own, babe,” she called. “There’s no way I’m joining you. Do you know what’s inside that ocean? Sharks.”

That didn’t stop Laura – she threw herself sideways over a wave and crashed down with it as its crest broke. The salt water scrubbed against her, buoying her up against the surface. It was bathwater warm and so pleasant she could almost forget the reason she’d come here in the first place. Almost. But she couldn’t erase Massimo’s dark eyes from her mind. Couldn’t exterminate his kiss from where it plagued her memory.

She played in the surf until her legs were rubbery with exhaustion and salt. Then she climbed up out of the water and shook the droplets at where Olga stretched out on Laura’s sweater. 

“Are you sure we’re in the right spot?” she asked, after screeching at Laura for splashing her.

Laura shrugged. “He said to meet him at the cove.” Disappointment trickled through her. What if she was in the wrong location? Or what if he’d never wanted to meet her in the first place and had only been caught up in the moment, the way she’d been? She retreated a few steps from Olga to scan the coastline. It rolled, every curve outlined by a jumble of rock, bleached white by the waves and sunshine. At the far end of the cove, there was a large, square building. It resembled a medieval castle: squat and bland, built to be impenetrable, with excellent visibility in every direction. She wondered who might live there, or if it was open to the public for tours.

“Do you think he’s going to stand me up?” she asked.

Olga pursed her lips. “We’ll see.”

They played on the coastline until the sunshine dimmed, fanned out in pinks and oranges, and on until even those colors dimmed, gobbled by the crisp cobalt night. They stayed there until they grew cold and groups of people lit fires in the sand, and the bar music drifted through the dark for them.

Eventually, Olga got bored and wandered back to the bar, for drinks and dancing. They only had three days left, she said, and she wasn’t going to waste it waiting for unreliable Italians who might or might not have been an alcohol induced hallucination.

Laura didn’t give up quite that soon. She paced the shoreline, as the night deepened and deepened and deepened. She watched the crowds shift and change as the night waxed into the early hours of the morning. Finally, she couldn’t stand, anymore, and sat just outside the wave’s reach, knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them for warmth.

The sun slowly nibbled the dark away, and dawn flung its shimmering beams across the city, across the ocean.

“Okay,” Laura croaked, slowly rising from her position in the sand. Her joints cracked in protest. 

Massimo never showed up. She should have known. She couldn’t believe she’d been so foolish as to think that someone like him would go after a girl like her. It had been a fantasy; a birthday wish that would never come true.

She climbed the hill of the beach to the boardwalk, glancing back over the sweep of the coastline one last time, for him. The white building appeared even more brilliant than before.

She was twenty-four, now. It was time to put aside these fantasies. She was never going to be able to obtain a man like that. She needed someone sensible, like her. Someone pragmatic and career-focused. Passion wasn’t in her future. She didn’t have the guts to seize it when it presented itself.

With a sigh, she dragged herself back to the hotel room and left her fantasies and belief in magic behind on the beach.


	4. Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years later, Laura feels trapped in a rut - locked in by a male-dominated work place and a long term boyfriend who seems to have lost interest in her. The only glimpse of hope in sight is her much needed vacation to a place she hasn't seen in years: Sicily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five years later...

If anyone asked Laura how she was doing, she’d tell them that she was fine. And she was, for the most part. She continued to tackle the challenges of a male-dominated workplace, forced herself to meet the demands of a long term boyfriend who seemed more interested in himself than her, combated her parents' outrageous expectations with a poise that Olga again and again said amazed her. There was nothing wrong with the system. It worked. She’d been doing it for so long now that she couldn’t quite remember how it even began. She only knew that it was beginning to get harder to convince herself that it was fine.

It was fine, every time something went wrong at work, and her male coworkers blamed her leadership. This is a man’s job, they’d say, every. Single. Time. There’s no room for a woman here. You let your sentiment and nature interfere with your work. What could she say in return? That they were all chauvinists, her boss included, and she wanted nothing to do with them? 

She fantasized about quitting, sometimes. Rising silently from the table and striding out of the office. It didn’t need any fanfare: the image itself was a blessed relief. Most days, the knowledge that she could leave was enough. That any time she wanted, she could abandon all of them. But leaving would also be like admitting defeat, admitting that her dream career that she’d always been so certain about in fact wasn’t what she wanted at all...

It was fine when her boyfriend Martin chose his friends over her – when he chose anything and everything over her, actually. As if expending any actual energy on her would be more than he could handle, that it would exhaust him past his limits. There were so many nights when she desperately needed release, craved intimacy and affection, to somehow blot away the horrors of her work situation and the slowly increasing feeling that she had entered a rut in her life, and she wasn’t even thirty. Only, Martin would say he was too tired, or that she was too tired (don’t strain your heart, he always said, as if he could possibly know what she could and couldn’t handle, the bastard), that he had something he needed to do first, as if being with her was a chore, a burden, and there were days when she arrived home that she wanted to tell him to fuck off. What they were in was not a relationship; it was an unhealthy push and pull that only stuck because they’d been together for so long.

Now, the last one seated at the conference table at work, she cast a desolate glance around the room. Her career was on the line for something that wasn’t even her fault. She wasn’t in charge of security detail: Jakub was. Yet somehow, he managed to make it look like she was responsible for the oversight on his part. Their boss favored him; he was male, after all, and the meeting had only ended with everyone exiting the room, leaving Laura alone, her career dangling by a thread.

She pushed her hands through her hair. If it were any other night, she would stay to contest her point, but she was leaving on vacation tonight – a vacation and birthday celebration that she needed at the moment more than she needed to be right. The flight to Sicily was in four hours, and she hadn’t even packed yet. It was supremely doubtful that Martin would have packed for them; she bet he’d been watching television all afternoon, or drinking with his friends.

With a sigh, she pushed away from the table and pulled her bag over her shoulder. The flight would be eight and a half hours long. Strange as it was, she was actually looking forward to it. She planned on sleeping the entire way, because once they landed, she was going to spend every second she had enjoying herself, and seducing her stubborn boyfriend, and there was no way she’d be sleeping.

At the lobby, she passed Jakub, who was arguing with the girl at the front desk. He glanced up sharply as she headed for the doors. He grinned at her, vile as a rat. “I hope you enjoy your vacation from reality, Miss Biel,” he said, “because when you return, you won’t have anything worth coming back to.”

For a second, she fantasized about knowing someone she could make an off the record deal with, someone to just off this pest of a human being. Then she fantasized about punching him in the face herself, because that would be even more satisfying. Instead of relinquishing control to her inner savage, she lifted her chin, not even acknowledging him, and strode through the doors. Let him try to get her fired. She would fight back. She’d been fighting as long as she’d been working here. She knew how to do it.

At the curb, she hailed a taxi and climbed inside. After giving the driver instructions on her destination, she sank back against the seat. Sicily. Oh, how she missed it! She hadn’t been there in five years. She and Olga had hit other destinations instead, because she’d felt snubbed by the entire city for a while. But she was more mature now, and ready to return to the place that had, for a brief moment, seemed like paradise.

Massimo’s face flashed across her mind. It disturbed her how vividly she remembered him: all tousled, dark curls and eyes promising adventure, hands swearing they knew exactly how to worship her.

Stop! She ordered herself. For all you care, Massimo no longer exists. You have a boyfriend. It wasn’t even a one night stand with that man. The most he did was kiss you. And, okay, he did touch you there – but that’s all it was. A momentary touch, there and gone in seconds. You are not going to encounter him again. Sicily is a large city. He probably doesn’t even live there.

The memory of him, though, of his touch from heaven and mouth of sin, blistered across her body. Laura swallowed.

No, you are not going to think about him anymore. You are going to think about Martin, who is going with you on this trip. Martin, your boyfriend. Martin, the love of your life. Okay, she conceded, maybe that’s pushing it a bit far. Wait. I do love him, don’t I?

The thought of not loving him terrified her. She tried to remember loving him, of choosing to move in with him, to advance in their relationship, but all those memories seemed to be taken up by Massimo’s presence instead.

Clenching her jaw, she pulled her phone out of her bag. There was a partition between her and the driver. It only partially concealed her, but she was desperate and scared of the direction her life was going in, so there was only one option: she needed to remember the good parts of her relationship with Martin, rather than dwelling on fantasies. She needed to get intimate with him again, and what better way to begin than before heading out on vacation? This could change everything. It could reinvigorate this relationship. Then maybe she wouldn’t be so uncertain about him.

Darting a final glance at the driver, she carefully unbuttoned her blouse to expose the cups of her bra. With the camera focused on her chest, she pressed play on video, and sensually traced a finger along the edge of the cup, then spread her fingers across it and squeezed herself. It wasn’t her hand she pictured doing it – it was supposed to be Martin’s but instead, she imagined Massimo, with his thick, confident hands – and she groaned at the image so clearly stamped in her brain.

“Are you all right back there?” the driver asked, his eyes lifting to the rearview mirror.

Laura hastily pulled her shirt together. “Yes,” she said, breathlessly.

He muttered under his breath and his eyes returned to the road.

She sent the video to Martin. There. She’d let him stew on that, for a bit. By the time she arrived home, he’d probably be waiting for her at the door, ready to sweep her off to bed. She squirmed in her seat at the thought. If she was getting turned on by her imagination, it seemed an obvious sign that she needed release. And she was determined to get it before the flight.

Finally the taxi arrived at her apartment building. Once she paid the driver, she flew up the stairs. It’d only been a few minutes since she sent the video, but she could have sworn Martin would have responded by now. Unless he was trying to tease her right back, in which case, bring it on. She could handle a little teasing from him.

Her key scraped the lock of her door and she flung it open, half steeling herself to be tackled by her boyfriend. Only, he wasn’t in the foyer. She stepped farther inside the apartment. The television buzzed in the living room. Of course. It was one of the two options Martin ever chose. That fast, fury spiked through her chest.

Hold on, she thought. He might not have seen the message, yet. There’s no reason to get angry.

She rounded the corner of the foyer and entered the parlor.

Martin hunkered down on the couch, his arms spread across the back, his headphones on. He had a video game playing on the computer in his lap, no doubt video chatting with his buddies through it, and the television turned to some political channel, so he could pretend to be enlightened.

She was going to fuck this man within an inch of his life to remind him what an absolute snack she was. She stalked across the room to him. Without giving him any forewarning, she dragged his headphones down to his neck. He jumped. 

“Oh, Laura! Hi. Honey,” he added, as an afterthought, when she bent and pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw. It usually made him immediately reach for her, an automatic on button. This time, however, he leaned away. “Wait. Don’t. I need to finish this before we leave. Plus we need get on the road to the airport in about a half hour.”

She frowned against his cheek, and proceeded to kiss up his jaw to his mouth.

“Can’t you just take a small break?” she pleaded. It wasn’t meant to come out that desperate and hungry, but she had needs. 

“Aren’t you tired?” he asked, catching hold of her hand before it could grab him by the front of his shirt. He pulled back from her mouth. “You shouldn’t overdo it with that weak heart of yours, Laura.”

She yanked her hand out of his grasp. Was he going to pull that excuse every single time she asked something of him? If he found her weak heart such a burden, why did he even stay with her? And who did he think he was, anyway, spouting off facts about her heart as if he knew anything about it at all. As if she wasn’t aware of her limits.

Curling her fingernails into her palm, she headed for the bedroom. If he was unwilling, fine, she didn’t need him. To be honest, she’d have more luck achieving orgasm without him.

“Besides,” he called after her, “you probably haven’t packed for us yet, have you?”


	5. Second Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and her friends finally land in Sicily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been so supportive of this work! I love and appreciate every single comment and kudos and read it has received.  
> I love sharing it with you and I'm glad you like it so far!

“Laura, wake up. We’re here!” Olga squealed, punching Laura’s shoulder. 

She yelped, jerking upright in her seat. The airplane belt at her waist, however restrained, her and she slammed against the backrest.

Her best friend stood in the aisle, carrying her backpack and purse. Her hair looked amazing for having been in an over eight hour flight. Laura fumbled against the cold seat belt clasp until it finally released, and she tentatively stood, gritting her teeth against the pinpricks of sleep running down her legs.

Laura lifted her carry-on from underneath the seat in front of her, then blinked the last of the sleep from her eyes. She barely felt awake. Lingering effects of the medication she’d taken made her body feel loose and rubbery. So much for the restful flight she’d wanted. Unfortunately, her subconscious had fixated on one particular image, and she’d woken repeatedly, trying to shake it off, leaving her hot and frustrated and unbearably horny. Damn Massimo’s memory.

“Where’s Martin?” she asked.

They’d been sitting beside each other during the flight. If she’d had any plans to lure him into the cramped bathroom to have her way with him, she would have been disappointed: the moment the plane was in the air, he pulled out his headphones and laptop to play video games.

Olga studied her carefully. “He didn’t want to wait for you. He already exited. Said something about getting the rental car. Come on. We’re here! We’re in Sicily!” She bounced a little. Laura laughed and followed Olga up the aisle toward the front exit of the plane.

“I am so ready for this vacation!” she continued. “I feel like it’s been eons since our last trip and I was on the verge of collapse. Screw working!” Olga shook her fists at the sky.

The word ‘working’ was like a trigger in Laura: it resurrected the horrible realization that when she returned, most likely she wouldn’t have a job to return to. She’d be coming home to a job hunt. Back to fighting for her career. 

“Nope,” she said, skipping up the runway to walk beside Olga, “work is not allowed. Pinkie promise we won’t bring it up once while we’re here,” she said, offering her slender pinkie to her best friend.

Olga giggled. “I like this. I feel like we’re new graduates again. Hell freaking yes.” They shook pinkies and some of Laura’s tension left her shoulders.

This was what vacations were meant to be: relaxing time spent with the people who were most important to you. Now that they were here, she could finally put her plan to seduce Martin in action. The thought made her smirk. It felt diabolical, almost, like she was one of those nefarious villains in a cartoon who ought to be laughing maniacally and rubbing their hands together. She wondered where that trope came from, anyway. Who was the first legendary villain who started that business?

Her phone pinged with a text. Olga lifted her eyebrows.

“Don’t answer it if it’s work related,” she reminded her, before moving ahead down the walkway and through the door into the airport. 

Laura located her phone from the depths of her purse (why was it that no matter how well she kept it organized, every time she searched for something inside it, it somehow turned into a black hole?) and pulled up the text.

We’ve got the rental car and are out front, Martin said.

Wow. He must have run off the plane if he got a car that quickly. Was he just as eager to be alone with her as she was with him? Maybe he’d seen the picture she sent him and couldn’t wait to get his hands on her. She shivered at the thought.

We’re off the plane, she texted back. Meet you out front in a minute. She added a kiss emoji, for good measure.

He didn’t say anything back. She swallowed her disappointment. Martin was always a little slow on the uptake. He’d realize what she wanted, soon enough. She wasn’t going to let him off easy this time. She was going to make it impossible for him to retreat from her.

Outside, the air was hot and crisp. It blasted against their faces as soon as the automated door slid open. Laura sucked in a deep breath, pulling the sunglasses from her bag. She almost put them on, but the sunshine felt remarkably good on her face, after hibernating within the depths of her office for months on end. She ended up tucking them in the front of her shirt, dragging the suitcase behind her down the sidewalk.

“I forgot how much I missed this place,” she said peering over at Olga. Her boyfriend, Antoni, had crept up behind her while they were walking to show them where they’d parked. He pressed his mouth to her cheek and her hand rose to his hair affectionately. Pain spiked through Laura.

Olga rifled through boyfriends faster than Laura had time to remember their names. Antoni was her latest, and they’d been dating for a total of three weeks, and would most likely break up soon, as Olga never dated anyone beyond a month. But he was exactly the sort of fun, wild, free-spirited young man you’d want to take with you on vacation. He was up for anything, and often the one who coaxed others into doing crazy things.

Olga released a whistle. “Wonder who’s in there. Do you think it’s a celebrity?”

“Where?” Laura whirled to follow the point of Olga’s finger over to the road. A glossy limousine swept past, the windows tinted so deeply black that any hopes of seeing a celebrity inside were instantly vanquished.

“Nah,” Antoni said. “It’s probably just someone who’s filthy rich.”

Laura had only been in a limousine one time during her life, and that had been to take her to a mediocre prom for her senior year of high school. She dismissed the image, uninterested since, most likely, it wasn't a celebrity, and anyway, she'd never ride in one again.

“How long to get to the beach?” she asked, twisting at the waist to beam a smile over her shoulder at her companions.


	6. Baby Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura slowly realizes that she's heading toward a cliff - and she's about to drop over the edge into a new future she never imagined for herself.

The champagne fizzled down Laura’s throat. It tasted like absolute bliss.

This was precisely what she’d needed – alcohol and heat and tropics. A boyfriend to release her inner sexual savage on. Granted, that current sexual savage was a mere plan she was formulating in her head, once they returned to their hotel bedroom. The things she planned to do to this man. It sent thrills chasing through her stomach. They’d been together for so long now that he probably forgot how hot she could be, when she wanted to. Well, she was going to give him the reminder of his life tonight.

Olga nudged her side. “What’s with the bedroom eyes?” she asked. “Don’t think I didn’t catch you looking at that sexy piece of ass at the bar,” she added. “What is more, I might approve of an orgy. Birthday sex is the best.”

Laura blinked back into focus. “What? I’m not making eyes at anyone.” She laughed, and it was a real, glorious laugh – head tossed back, deep and throaty. 

“Oh?” Olga said. “So you weren’t staring at that one hundred percent beefcake, right there?” she lifted her glass toward the open bar across the cobblestones, on the other side of the lounge where the four of them were seated.

Laura peered around her friend to see the man she was talking about. She hadn’t realized she’d been staring in that general direction, but once her gaze fell on the magnificent creature, she wondered how in the world she hadn’t noticed him before.

The expanse of his shoulders was enough to make her moan. She leaned forward in her seat, biting her lip before she could stop herself. His hair was dark and slicked back. Despite how hard he was trying to hide them, however, his curls were fighting back against his hair product. She shivered as the sudden urge to bury her fingers through his hair and loosen the rest of his curls overwhelmed her.

You have a boyfriend, she reminded herself. 

But she really wanted to know this boy. What his name was. How he liked his breakfast. What sounds he made in bed.

Laura rose from the chair. “I need to go to the ladies room,” she announced. Her skin tingled, like sparkles ignited across her skin. Olga waggled her eyebrows at her knowingly, as if she was going to do something, as if she could so something about this. Fact of the matter was, she couldn’t. She was spoken for. Wasn’t she?

She hitched her bag over her shoulder and moved around everyone. If Martin reached out to her and touched her hand, now, she would drag him with her for a quickie. That’s how desperate she was. She needed a reminder of why she was with him in the first place, and while convenient sex certainly wasn’t a good enough reason to stay with someone, it was the only one she could currently think of.

She glanced at the bar again as she passed, trying to see if his face was as attractive as his shoulders, but he’d left. Laura tried not to feel disappointed. Inside the bathroom, she splashed some water on her face, and spent a good five minutes with her hand pressed to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. It just felt like everything was rushing to the edge of a cliff – toward a monumental moment of change in her life. She didn’t know how she felt about it.

Don’t think about it, she told herself. You’re on vacation. No thinking about the future, or your responsibilities, or anything at all. You’re supposed to have fun. It’s your birthday.  
She waited until her pulse returned to normal before exiting the bathroom. It seemed like a preternatural darkness had fallen while she’d been inside: a hushed, almost magical stillness breathed through the night, dousing her anxieties. That decided it. Tonight, she was going to talk with Martin. Even if it made things awkward. It needed to be done. She owed it to herself - to him – to be honest.

In the middle of the walkway she paused. The path branched off in three different directions. The one to the right led back to the lounge, she knew that, but she wondered what would happen if she took one of the other paths. If it would lead her to a brighter and better future than the one she was currently on.

“I wish,” she breathed, her voice as soft as the pale glow of fireflies in the distance.

Then she turned to go down the path that would lead her back to her friends and collided, rather solidly, with another human being.

Icy heat wasn’t something that Laura thought about existing. It wasn’t a sensation you could feel. Yet. Chills prickled goose bumps across her skin, followed by bone-melting, intoxicating heat. Every hard, muscular angle of the body in front of her called like a siren to her very soul. It was the deepest, most violent vortex of desire she’d ever experienced in her life.

Laura inhaled sharply and nearly moaned again at the delicious scent of the stranger: it wasn’t something she could easily place; but it whispered to her to touch, to taste, to explore where she would, however she wanted, with him.

“Are you lost, baby girl?” The stranger in the dark asked. His voice was sin, dripping from his lips, and she ravenously desired to drink every drop.

Painstakingly, she drew herself back. Any sudden movements and she knew, it didn’t matter what was going on with Martin. She would do anything this stranger said. Follow him wherever he wanted to take her. It reminded her, eerily, of that night she was here, many years ago, when she’d encountered Massimo. But this magnetizing stranger couldn’t be him.

It must be her reaction toward Italian men, she thought, trying to be blase. 

With her chin lifted, she shook her head, and not daring to meet his eye, she skirted around him and practically fled back to her friends, sparing one, final glance back, only to find the path deserted, as if he was a figment of her imagination.


	7. Talk to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura attempts to get intimate with her boyfriend.

Laura owned a single piece of lingerie; it was a scarlet babydoll style top, with a demure bow planted strategically between her breasts, with a front that hung in lazy, gorgeous curtains down the length of her stomach. The bottoms were practically nonexistent scraps of lace, and she’d decided to leave them off altogether.

“Look at you,” she told her reflection. “Beautiful.” She smoothed her hair down her shoulders, then turned and exited the hotel bathroom, to the main room. Their suitcases stood open on the low lying dresser across from the bathroom, and beside it, the television stood, the screen a muted blue, the volume barely a buzz in her ears.

Martin was lying in his bed (there were two, which Laura figured could be a bit of fun, if he was up to playing) one arm crooked behind his head, while the other held his phone. He was rapidly texting someone, the slightest of smiles on his face. His eyes were soft in a way she didn’t recognize. She cleared her throat, to get his attention, feeling more than a little foolish for instigating something he didn’t seem all that interested in at the moment. Before he even lifted his eyes from the phone, she crawled up the second bed and dragged the covers over her body so she was completely hidden beneath them.

“Ready for bed?” he asked, when he finally looked over at her. “We have a lot of sightseeing to do tomorrow. Wouldn’t want your weak heart to -”

“Martin,” Laura said, sitting up, but keeping her blanket tightly wrapped around her. “We need to talk.”

“Sweetheart,” he said. 

Once upon a time, in their earlier days of dating, she’d fawned over that voice. It melted her to her soul and turned her soft. But now she was beginning to realize what it was. He was trying to hold her back. Trying to maintain superiority. Did she threaten him that much, that he felt constantly obligated to put her in her place?

“No,” she said, “You and I need to have this conversation. We’ve been putting it off for a while now. My weak heart can handle it,” she added. “Can you?”

Martin yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m tired, actually. Whatever it is that you want to talk about, it can wait. I’m sure it can wait until morning.”

“I’ve done enough waiting,” she said, heat creeping into her tone. She didn’t want to be upset with him. Because then he’d really push “her weak heart” agenda. This was why they never resolved anything. Every time she tried, he shut her down. Why did she let him do this to her? When had she allowed herself to be silenced?

“All I know,” he said, “is we’ve been traveling all day. I’m tired. You’re tired. I’m going to shower, and then we’re going to bed.”

She wanted to lash out at him. She wanted to tell him that he was losing her. That if he didn’t listen, for once, their relationship was going to implode. But a tiny voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Martin’s asked her if she was overreacting. If she was blowing things out of proportion again. So she didn’t say anything. She let him walk past her to the bathroom and close himself inside.

She tugged the blanket more closely around her, for a second. Then she dropped it and crawled across to the foot of the bed. All the ideas she’d had disintegrated. Crossing to the suitcase, she pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a sweater, not even bothering to remove the lingerie – she didn’t care if she ruined it. Buying it had been a whim, and like most whims, there hadn’t been any payoff.

She headed for the hotel gym and stayed there until she’d worked off her aggression and frustration. In her head, she assembled her argument, every piece and portion. Laura believed their relationship was salvageable. Nothing was ever truly lost; they could regain that same joy and affection and need for each other, if they opened up.

By the time she returned to their hotel room, she’d calmed down to the point where she was certain everything was going to be fine. He’d been right earlier; they’d been traveling all day. It was the stress that was getting to her, that was all.

She took a quick shower, pulled on her old school sweater, and climbed in bed with Martin. Everything was going to work out all right. They would talk in the morning. The thought filled her with comfort and hope, reinvigorated the possibilities in front of her, and when she fell asleep, she fell hard, sleeping more deeply than she had in months.


	8. Monogrammed Key Chain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura wakes up refreshed and willing to forgive and forget.

Sunshine warmed Laura’s eyelids, like honey poured over her skin. She smiled blissfully, stretching her arms across the bed in quest of Martin. 

“Good morning,” she said.

Her seeking fingers, however, only fell across cool sheets. With a frown, she sat up and opened her eyes. The bed was empty, the blankets tossed back on his side. She cocked her head to the side, listening for sounds of the shower running. But their suite was completely quiet.

Laura snatched her phone off the bedside table, checking the time. It was a quarter past eleven. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d allowed herself to sleep that late. It was positively glorious. Martin had probably gotten hungry and had gone downstairs to get something to eat. Hopefully he was bringing back something for her, too, because she was ravenous.

Humming, she pulled on her black swimsuit and silky cover-up that Olga had gotten her last Christmas. After a quick peek in the mirror to make sure she was presentable to the outside world, she texted her friend, telling her she was heading down to the pool.

Girl, Olga texted back, I’m already there. Bring snacks!

Laura smiled, sent a quick text to Martin to let him know where she was headed and for him to meet her there, then skipped down the hallway to the elevator. All that stress and anger yesterday? Completely gone. She and Martin were merely going through a rough patch; every relationship had one. They were going to be all right.

Outside, the air was balmy, with the softest, petal brush of wind against her skin. She smiled up at the sun, pulling her sunglasses down over her eyes. This. This was utter bliss. Or, as close to it as she was going to get, at the moment.

When she reached the pool deck, she found Olga sunbathing, catching the attention of everyone bearing a pulse within radius. The power she held over others never stopped being fascinating to watch. Laura had no idea how she managed to do it so effortlessly.

“Morning, babe,” Laura called as she strolled up to the lounge chairs.

Olga lifted her sunglasses. “Did you bring my snacks?” she asked.

Laughing, Laura lifted a bag of crisps. Olga leaped up from her chair to snatch them away. “All this soaking up sunshine and relaxing works up an appetite,” she declared.

Laura fanned a towel out over her chair, tipping it until it was reclined all the way back. It was pure luxury to spread herself along its length.

“I ordered some wine,” Olga said. “I plan on spending at least ninety percent of this trip drunk.”

Laura snorted. “It’s like we’ve been transported back to the age we were when we were here last,” she said. “Drinking and alive and hopeful about the future.”

Although her eyes were closed behind her sunglasses, Laura felt Olga’s discerning eyes on her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Olga asked.

“About what?”

“Whatever’s on your mind. Ooh, the wine’s here!” Thanking their server profusely, she poured herself a glass before returning to Laura’s side. They sunbathed in silence for a bit, lost in the heat and the wine.

In the distance, gulls screeched over the sloppy splash of the ocean’s waves against the beach.

“Why do the gulls have to be so loud?” Olga complained. Laura smiled; Olga didn’t have the highest alcohol tolerance, and once she got inebriated, it was always an interesting adventure. She seemed to take on the personality of a lavish, spoiled celebrity. It never failed to make Laura laugh.

“Where’s Michal-Angelo?” Laura asked, sitting up on her elbow to look at her friend. It was their pet name for Antoni, mainly based off the gorgeously carved body he possessed, but also owing to his second name ‘Michal.’

Olga flourished a hand toward the pool behind him. She’d had her nails done before they’d left and they still looked immaculate. “Being a child in the pool. He splashed me after I told him I wasn’t dipping so much as a pinkie toe in it.” She turned her head slightly toward Laura. “What about Martin?” She said his name very carefully. 

Did she suspect something had happened between them? Her friend had never been vocal about her opinion of Martin. Laura suspected she didn’t approve of him. Only once had she ever said something, in the three years they’d been dating, and it had been to say that she thought their relationship felt very one sided. It was one of the reasons Laura didn’t like to talk about her problems. Because then Olga would tell her she was too good for him and that she needed to end it. And she didn’t have the guts to do something so final.

“I don’t know,” Laura said. She tried to keep her tone careless and measured. He hadn’t texted her back yet, and she was trying to hold onto her blissful mood with which she’d started the day and ended her night. “He was gone when I woke up this morning. I thought he went to get breakfast, but...” she shrugged.

Olga pressed her lips together.

Laura opened her mouth, closed it, then said, quietly, “You know, I’m starting to realize I’m not the most important thing to him, not in the way I want to be.”

Olga sat up higher on the lounge chair, but she didn’t say anything. She kept her eyes fixed on Laura, and that affectionate silence prompted Laura to continue. “Everything else comes first. His friends. His career. His hobbies. And it makes me wonder, sometimes, why we’re even together. Relationships should be about passion. They should be about loving someone so much that you want to spend the rest of your life with them. Not staying together because it’s convenient.” She bit her lip. Tears burned in her eyes, and a scalding sensation scratched up her throat. But she needed to say this. She needed someone else to know the thoughts running through her mind. “Sometimes I wonder, if we weren’t together, if he saw me in a bar, would he choose me?”

Olga started to speak when Martin’s voice drowned her out. “Hi, honey!” he called. He had his duffel bag hiked over his shoulder and Laura briefly wondered why he had it with him. He crossed the pool deck to them and pressed a quick series of kisses to her cheek.

He’s guilty about something, she thought. Maybe it was about last night.

“Where have you been?” she asked. It wasn’t what she’d intended to say; it came out in spite of herself.

He quickly straightened away from her and rubbed a hand over his head. Beside her, Olga released the softest of sighs. Laura’s eyes flicked to hers momentarily. Olga shook her head, but Laura didn’t know what she was telling her not to do. 

“The beach,” he said, a little too quickly.

Laura sat up sharply.

“I didn’t want to wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully,” he added.

First of all, she loved the beach. She loved it the way she loved nothing else. She wouldn’t mind waking up in the middle of the night to go to the beach if someone suggested it. Second of all, she’d been with Martin long enough to know when he was lying. He was lying to her now. While he might have gone to the beach without her, her being asleep was not the reason he hadn’t woken her up to go with him.

She recalled last night, how he’d been looking at the texts on his phone. Suspicion and jealousy were ugly things. All the times she’d ever encountered them in her life, it ended badly.

She just hadn’t been enough to keep them satisfied. 

But Martin wouldn’t cheat on her. Would he? Being unfaithful was a catastrophic accusation to throw around. She needed to be rational about this.

“We were supposed to go together.” She was proud of how utterly flat and emotionless she sounded. “It’s my birthday. You were supposed to be spending it with me. With all of us.”

He shrugged, dismissing her, not paying enough attention to see how hurt she was, or maybe he did see and simply didn’t care to acknowledge it. “I did get you this,” he said, “from a vendor on the boardwalk.”

Her fury paused for a moment while he fished in his pocket. It wasn’t as though they couldn’t go to the beach later, she reasoned with herself. You can spend the rest of the day there, if you wanted to. Just because he went without you doesn’t mean that he...that he would be unfaithful. All that texting last night had probably been with one of his friends. And maybe what he’d said about not wanting to wake her was true. He was fearful of her weak heart. Maybe this wasn’t as big of a deal as she was making it out to be.

Martin opened his palm to show her the monogrammed key chain he’d gotten. It showed a snapshot of the turquoise ocean. The water was flat and smooth as satin. And across the front of it was the name Lauren. That quickly, she was done – with him, with her birthday, with this entire trip, in fact.

As slow as a glacier in the Arctic, she rose from the lounge chair and lifted the key chain from his hand.

“How thoughtful,” she said, then shoved him as hard as she could. “Fuck off!” She didn’t watch him fall in the pool. She pivoted, grabbing her silky cover up from the chair, and ran off the pool deck. Olga called after her, but that was a conversation she really didn’t want to have right now, especially after what she’d just been telling her. How could she have been so blind?

Olga was right; vacations should be spent ninety percent drunk and that was precisely what she was going to do now. Drink and drink, all alone, with no one else to interrupt her thoughts, no one else there to tell her how she was supposed to feel. That it was an innocent mistake to make, choosing the wrong name on a key chain. And maybe, for anyone else’s relationship, it would have been. But Martin was one of those people with a particular eye for detail.

He’d most likely gotten it on impulse, to ease his guilty conscience. The same way he’d done once before. Well, fuck him. Fuck him to infinity and beyond. He’d promised. He’d promised it would never happen again, that she was the only one he wanted to come home to, that she was the only woman he thought about. Like the fool she was, she’d been quick to forgive him before, because she’d been terrified of ending up alone. Not this time. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

Laura entered the first bar she could find and didn’t even bother with anything fancy. She ordered the stiffest drink on the menu and proceeded to let the alcohol scrub everything pertaining to cheating assholes from her brain until she was thoroughly buzzed and entered the sad stage of intoxication.

She half wished she’d waited to have Olga come with her. She needed a good wing woman right about now.

By the time she finally left the bar, or rather, the bartender kicked her out of the bar, she could hardly stand, and it was pitch black outside. The hotel wasn’t that far away, though, so she wasn’t worried.

She stumbled across the cobblestones, shying at every sound. Everything seemed curiously loud: from the yowling of the street cats to the roar of a car engine. She pressed her hands against her ears.

Lights flashed on, washing her in their glow. She squinted her eyes. It was too bright to stare at it for long, and anyway, there was more than enough room for the bastards to drive around her; she wasn’t in the mood to obey anyone’s wishes. She turned, and there was someone standing there, shifting in and out of focus, more apparition than a person.

The apparition sprang at her before she had time to react – a hand clamping over her mouth before she could build up a good scream – something sharp plunging deep into her arm. Then, the world was erased, and there was only this: euphoric, empty nothing.


	9. In the Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura wakes up in Massimo's mansion.

The bed was downy soft and comfortable beneath Laura. The sheets covering her were smooth and cool. Apart from the pain spiking through her arm, and the prominent headache lashing against her temples, she would have been content to stay in bed the entire day.

She tried to remember when she returned to the hotel after drinking, but everything was fuzzy and uncertain. No doubt, Martin had come back to the room, too, and was in here with her, waiting for her to wake up so he could make excuses about everything he’d done this time around. Well, he’d spent so much time avoiding her conversation, she was going to avoid his now.

Laura cracked open one eye, then the other, slowly sitting up in the bed. Cold sweat broke out across her skin.

She’d never been inside this room in her life. It was far more luxurious than anything she’d ever dared to set foot in. Directly opposite the bed, there was a wall of floor to ceiling mirrors, like a ballet studio. It gleamed from the thick swathes of sunlight pouring through window behind the gauzy curtains that served more to be beautiful than to block out daylight. The chandelier above the bed shattered the streams of light into a thousand fractured rainbows that painted across Laura’s arms and legs and shivered against the wall.

Tentatively, she slid to the floor. Had she been so upset with Martin last night that she’d checked into a different hotel? She was still in her black swimsuit, with the silk cover-up barely cinched around her waist. Her platform sandals were surprisingly still on. Had she really fallen asleep wearing them? She wrinkled her nose, crossing the room to the window and delicately pushed the curtain to the side.

Where was the city? Was the first bleary thought that came to mind. The view from the window offered the slant of a tiled roof, with battlements below, and then a hedge of trees, followed by the sweep of manicured grounds. In the distance, there were more trees. Wherever she was, she was not anywhere near the city. Had she met someone at the bar last night and used him to get back at Martin? While that didn’t sound like something she would normally do, if it was an Italian boy, she could certainly believe she would do something so foolish.

Swallowing hard, she turned from the window to go to the bedroom double doors, which seemed unnecessarily grandoise. Why need two doors to get inside one room? She rolled her eyes. Apparently, she’d gone home with someone who had buckets of money. She tugged on the door handle.

What would Martin say when she returned? When she told him what she’d done, to get back at him? Revenge was such a petty move, but she found that she wasn’t guilty about it. Maybe this would show him that she was desirable, desirable enough for other people to want her. Olga would be surprised, she knew. Laura didn’t typically do things like this. This was a bold move for her. She thought that Olga would probably approve. She needed to take chances, every once in a while, and though this wasn’t the best place to start, it was a start, and she was going to take it.

That’s funny, she thought. Why isn’t it opening?

She tugged on the handle, again, and then tried the other one.

They were locked from the outside.

Her heartbeat faltered, scrambled to beat. She pressed a hand to her chest, ordering herself to calm down.

“Hello?” she called. “Is anyone there? Please, let me out. I need to get back. Hello?”

She pressed her ear to the panels, waiting, listening. It was so quiet on the other side. Goosebumps prickled up the back of her neck. She shook her head, yanking her hands back from the door.

There had to be a reasonable explanation. Something she’d missed. Breaking through her panic, the pain in her arm screamed and she glanced down at it, pushing the sleeve of her cover-up over her elbow. The underside of her arm had a large, purpled bruise, with a red raised bump in the middle. She pressed her thumb over it, almost yelping at the heat pouring off it.

It was a needle puncture. In her arm.

As though in slow motion, it returned to her: she’d been wandering, after leaving the bar last night. Couldn’t remember which street to take to return to the hotel. There had been a pair of car headlights that lit up, exposing her standing in the middle of the street. It hadn’t occurred to her how dangerous that had been. She remembered turning away from the burning light and had collided with someone. The memory of the plunge of the needle, cold and invasive and wrong, in her arm sent a spasm of fear up her spine.

Had she actually been kidnapped? That wasn’t something that happened in real life. That didn’t happen to people like her. She worked in the hotel management industry. She wasn’t even beautiful, not the way Olga was. Not the way other girls seemed to be. Why would anyone want to take her?

Uncontrollable shivers gripped her body as she staggered backward, away from the door. She couldn’t stop until she bumped against the wall of windows. Then she released a shaky breath and sat down, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. Everything returned to her in preternatural focus.

Her captors were Italian; that much she knew. She’d heard them talking, before the drug overwhelmed her to unconsciousness. Maybe she could reason with them. Offer them money, if they let her go. However, judging by the room she was in, she suspected that what they were after wasn’t money.

“Fuck,” she said, just to say something out loud. Her voice sounded strange in this room – raspy and hoarse. It reminded her how thirsty she was. How she hadn’t actually eaten anything since the day before yesterday. If, in fact, she’d only been here a day. The realization brought her panic back in full force.

“Stop, Laura,” she said. “Think. You need to check the whole room. Maybe you have your phone. Your wallet. You need to be smart about this. You don’t know who these people are. Or what they want with you.”

The plan steadied her slightly, enough to move away from the wall. She examined the room, end to end. Hidden along the wall of mirrors, she discovered the secret entrance to a hidden bathroom. She rushed immediately to the sink and turned it on, while she stuck her face under it and drank greedily from the lukewarm stream.

To the right, there was an open concept dual shower. The wall behind it was sectioned off in rock and strips of faintly glowing light sections. Laura blinked at it, wondering who designed it. It was sort of one of the sexiest things she’d ever seen.

She pinched her side. “Stop it,” she told herself.

The lock grated. She froze, staring at the bedroom door, her heart beating hyper fast. But the doors remained closed. She flew across the room to test the handle, exulting when it gave beneath her hand. She opened it further and peeked out into the corridor.

Her eyes skirted over the lush carpets, the filigreed wall sconces, checking for human life. Someone had to have unlocked her door, after all. Whoever it had been, however, was a mystery: there was no one else here. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she left the room and after a quick glance down the corridor, decided to go to the right, hoping it would lead her to the exit.

Every step she took brought her deeper into the flamboyant luxury of the mansion. Marbled pillars, lush, exquisite artwork – statues so realistic she touched one with a fingertip, just to make sure they weren’t made flesh.

The owner’s taste, while certainly rich, was moderately tasteful. She and Olga had a bit of a late night pastime, where they looked up mansions for sale across the world, and it was amazing how horribly some of them were decorated.

She entered an immense, open space that could have passed for a ballroom – and perhaps it was. Beyond the sequence of pillars, there was a set of opened double doors, with a roaring, red fire flashing against the grate.

Laura darted a glance over her shoulder. The corridor was as soulless as it had been since she’d exited her room. Curiosity nudged her forward in spite of herself, and she crossed the open room to the doors.

The room was more lavish than she expected, arranged with furniture specifically designed to make you want to lay there, to inspire you to absolute nothingness. There were curtains across every latticed window, with even more rough hewn pillars planted strategically about the room, and each doorway swept in an arch so symmetrically pleasing to the eye that it calmed her slightly.

Then her gaze drifted back to the fireplace. To the massive portrait hanging above it. The young woman on the canvas looked unobtainable – gorgeous – delectable as something forbidden. Her hair fell in dark folds down to her shoulders, her head tipped slightly. There was a knowing light in her dark eyes, as if she knew her power and liked to exact it. As if she was the sort of woman that brought men to their knees.

It was Laura’s face. 

She sucked in a sharp breath.

“Are you lost, baby girl?” The question spoke directly to the most primal part of Laura’s brain. Her body seized as she turned to face the speaker. Terrified, she lifted her eyes to his. It was difficult to get herself to fix on any details about him, other than she had to look up to meet his gaze. Looking at him, she felt as though she was submerged under water, and a bolt of lightning flashed down to electrocute her.

She tipped forward, barely focused enough to be aware of him catching her, and then she passed out.


	10. The Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and Massimo have a little chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, everyone! Wow, how in the world did we get so far along in this? Thank you everyone for reading! I love to see your feedback, and every little kudos just warms me up from the inside out. <3

At first, Laura was determined not to talk to Massimo at all. She wasn’t sure she had control over what came out of her mouth. She couldn’t be certain, either, that this wasn’t all an elaborate hallucination caused by sunstroke, and she was actually back at the hotel. Because there was no way, five years after meeting the one man who she had a chemical, undeniable, frustrating attraction to, that she would encounter him again, under these circumstances. That he would steal her, as though she was nothing more than a pretty thing in a shop window.

All that time spent fantasizing about him, and here he was, in the flesh, and decidedly more of an asshole than her lenient imagination had decided. She couldn’t decide what appalled her more, the fact that he was still ridiculously attractive and magnetizing, or that she couldn’t squelch that desire she had for him, even in this terrible situation.

He was saying something, offering her an ice cube. After she’d fainted, he’d (allegedly) carried her to a chair and sat with her until she came to. Now he was trying to keep her alert and awake, offering her water to drink and apparently, ice cubes to suck. Distantly, she heard the words sedative and heart problem coming out of his mouth, and that fast, she was done with him. Prick! He had the nerve to sedate her, kidnap her, and then give her an offhand, barely contrite apology? Fuck him. Fuck him to infinity and beyond.

She slapped his hand away from her face, and bared her teeth at him, like a wild animal. “Why am I here?” she demanded.

To her horror, he actually looked amused. Albeit for the briefest of seconds before it softened into concern. He sighed and rose to a standing position over her. To maintain superiority, to show her that he had control, the dominance over the situation. She’d seen the same mentality in action dozens of times before.

She shot to her feet, prepared to scream at him for all she was worth when he quietly said, “Because you’re in danger of dying.”

Her mouth dropped open, but he’d vacuumed the sound right out of her body. She teetered on her feet. His hands automatically reached for her, but she gave him a warning look and he let them fall back to his sides.

“If you say it’s due to my heart problem,” she said, her tone acidic, “I’m going to -”

He whipped his hands up between them in, submitting ever so slightly to her fury. She was stalking toward him and for her every step forward, he took a corresponding step backward.

“No. Nothing to do with that. It’s – well. I think you should sit down for this. It’s going to be a little difficult to explain.”

Crossing her arms, she lifted her chin, defiant to his request, and waited. “So explain. I’m sure me and my weak heart can handle it.”

He frowned. “Are you mocking me?” he asked, incredulous. “Sit. Or I’ll make you sit.”

What was her life? Where had she gone wrong? She considered holding her ground – to continue disobeying him. But she knew nothing about this man, other than a single encounter five years ago that hadn’t even led to anything. He was a lot bigger than she was. Over the years, he’d only become even more chiseled and muscular. Besides, there was also a roughness to him. She couldn’t let her guard down. If he was comfortable enough to kidnap people, he probably didn’t have any issues hurting them.

She sat, glaring at him, her hands twisted in her lap.

He moved away from her, toward the fireplace. “I don’t know how well you remember me,” he said at last. “About how we met five years ago.”

She looked away.

“Hey. Hey! Look at me.” His voice commanded to be obeyed. She forced her eyes to meet his, despising him more every second. “The day we met...I believe I found who I was meant to live the rest of my life with. The memory of your face, so young and hopeful and filled with light, saved me.”

Laura glanced toward the pillars leading into the next room. There were so many doorways, so many corridors, it was impossible to tell where the exit was. She could hear people, though. Arguing, somewhere in the mansion. Did they know she’d been taken against her will?

“Can you get on with it, already?” she snapped.

Massimo stared at her until it seemed every bone in her body was liquid. She sank deeper into the chair.

“I lost my father the day we met. Lost my freedom. Some might argue,my life." He traced an absent finger across the tattoos on his left arm. "My father was the leader of a violent empire," he said at last. "And when he died, that role became mine. I’m not going to be shy with you. I have powerful enemies. Enemies who are aware you exist, and want you dead, because of me.”

Laura wasn’t sure she understood what he was saying. “Why?” her voice came out a whisper. “Why would I matter to them?”

Massimo dragged a hand through his hair, hunting for the right words. Instead of answering her question directly, he said, “Do you know, ever since the day I met you, I was looking for you? Because I was convinced we were meant to be together. And I wasn’t quiet in my search. Wasn’t subtle in my affection.” He gestured toward her portrait above the fireplace. “Of course, I did finally find you. You came back.” His eyes locked with hers, and they were so warm and welcoming that she thawed, a fraction, before remembering who he was and what he’d done to her and froze herself back up.

“At a terrible time,” he continued. “My authority over my empire is being threatened. There are traitors in my ranks, who are working with my enemy to overthrow me. They think, because I won’t stoop to their level, that I am weak. I am not weak!” he snarled. “And I won’t have anything I care about taken from me. I will not let them take you from me!”

“But I am not yours,” Laura snapped, pushing out of her chair. “And whatever political games you’re playing, I want no part of. Let them try to kill me. I can handle myself.”

He shook his head once, sharply. “Not against these people. Baby girl, you’re strong. Yes. But it isn’t always about that. Sometimes, it’s about how smart you are.” He tapped a finger to his temple. “You see, they will want you to go to them willingly, to betray me. They will threaten things. Your career.” He stepped toward her. “Your family.” Another step. “Your life.” He kept coming until they were barely a foot apart and she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. “They’ll take everything away from you until you’re begging for them to spare you, and then they’ll torture you until you are unrecognizable as a human being. They’ll kill you. Unless I submit to them. And, Laura, I submit to no one. Not even for you.”

Laura couldn’t stop shaking. “Why?” she asked. “Why can’t you just give them what they want? Why do I need to be in the middle of this?”

For the first time, he looked ashamed. “I couldn’t stop seeing your face. Everyone close to me knows I’ve been looking for you. So it was either I get to you first, or never see you again in this life.”

Laura pressed her hands to her temples. Pressure was building in her head, and every breath increased the serrated pain.

“What about the authorities? Why didn’t you just alert them?” As soon as she asked, however, she realized why he hadn’t. His empire was illegal. And she, inexplicably, was in the middle of it.

"I don't know who to trust," he said. "How could I let you go on your way knowing that they'd come for you?"

She sneered at him. "And you thought that if you just, what, kidnapped me that I'd simply say, 'ok,' and let you do whatever the fuck you want? I don't think so. I'm leaving. You can't keep me here."

"No!" He leaped at her and she screamed, but he only dropped to his knees and grabbed her by her silk rope, trapping her against him as he looked up into her face. Kneeling to her, submitting to her the way he'd just declared that he would do for no one, not even her. How terrible, exactly, were his enemies? "Please. Laura. I can't lose you before I've even had the chance to -" He stopped, when he noticed her expression.

She leaned toward him, not even attempting to disguise her fury. "No. Go on. I fucking dare you to finish that sentence."

He shook his head. "Look," he said, "Give me three hundred sixty five days. I should be able to get the situation under control by then. Let me do that, and if - if you choose to leave after that, you can go. I won't stop you. I'll even give you an escort. Just. Please let me have this chance to save you."

"What am I supposed to do in the meantime? What will I do here? I have a job - I have a boyfriend. Friends. Family. You can't keep me here!"

He sighed, letting her yank out of his grasp and jump back from him.

"Did you think that I would actually agree to this? You've got some nerve. I want to leave. Right now. If you actually care about me, you need to let me leave."

"Laura," he said.

"No. Listen. You didn't have to do any of this. That portrait?" she stabbed a finger toward it. "The drugging? The kidnapping? Holding me fucking hostage?!" She screamed through her teeth. His expression was guarded. "If you knew me at all, if you actually had feelings for me, you would have just talked to me. Explained and let me choose for myself." She sent a scathing look up and down his body. His jaw flexed. She huffed at him, then pivoted on her heel and stalked toward the pillars.

Massimo grabbed her by the waist and slammed her into the chair. His knee was between her thighs and his hand was on her face, forcing her to look at him. The proximity was a solar flare in her veins. She wanted to bite that hand on her face, to show him that he didn't intimidate her the way he was trying to. 

"I can't let you leave," he said.

"You can't keep me here. I'm not a pet," she spat.

She expected him to yell at her. His dark eyes softened, though, and the hand against her face turned unbearably tender, tipping so her cheek was cupped against his palm. His long fingers curved into her tangled, black hair. "No," he said, "you're not."

She jerked away from him. "Get off me," she said.

He didn't; he leaned closer. "Fine. What about we make a deal? You can leave. I consent- you can go. But two of my most trusted guards will go with you. If, in twenty-four hours, you remain safe, I'll let you go on your way." He flinched, and she kicked him away. He stumbled backward a few steps, staring at her with a raw expression on his face that Laura had never seen on Martin's face. She had to remind herself where she was, what he'd done to her.

"If not," he said, "you have to come back. Return to me, and I'll protect you. Deal?" He offered her his hand.

She scoffed. "And if I don't agree?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I won't let them hurt you."

What did she have to lose? He was clearly eccentric. There probably wasn't any danger, and he was no doubt beginning to realize the consequences of his actions. He knew she had people with her who would look for her. She would leave, notify the authorities, and return to Poland. He would never find her ever again and she would never visit this cursed city for the rest of her life.

She declined his hand. "Deal. Now let me leave."

He cocked his head. "You'll have to stay with me. For a whole year," he added.

It wasn't as though he was giving her any alternative options. "I know what I'm agreeing to," she said.

He stared and stared and stared until, finally, when she was about to make a break for it (not that she had any hopes of outrunning him; it was the prompt of instinct alone) he snapped his fingers and called for two of his guards.

"All right," he said. "They'll bring you back to your hotel. They'll keep you safe. And they'll bring you back to me."

She snorted. It was sheer willpower to keep herself from saying that she would only be returning in his dreams. She followed the two guards through the pillared archways to the massive front door. She wondered how she could have missed it before. It didn't matter, though. She was ready to leave. Ready to escape Massimo. The guards opened the doors for her and she glanced back at him, where he stood watching in the doorway. She couldn't believe she was leaving, just like this. Were they going to slaughter her in the woods? Was it really going to be this easy? 

She offered him her middle finger in salute before walking right out the door, accompanied by the bodyguards he'd assigned to her, fingers crossed that she'd make it out of this in one piece.


	11. The Worst Kind of Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escorted by the guards Massimo assigned to her, Laura returns to her hotel to reunite with her friends.

Pretending she wasn’t being escorted by sketchy guards offered by the king of an illegal empire was more of a challenge than Laura expected. She perched on the edge of her seat, eyeing the two of them. The driver looked as though she could kill people with her bare hands. She held the steering wheel in a death grip and chanted under her breath. Or at least, looked like she was chanting under her breath. She was actually wearing an earpiece – Laura glimpsed it when she turned her head to look at the man in the passenger seat.

The man was infinitely more friendly. Which meant that he introduced himself as Mario and the driver as Charlotte and told her that she was in good hands. They were going to ensure no harm would come to her before she returned to Massimo.

“You think, then, that someone’s coming for me?” she asked. The question escaped her before she could remind herself that they were complicit in her kidnapping. If Massimo was the king of a criminal empire (mafia, she thought, surprised, almost as if Olga was sitting beside her, whispering the word in her ear) then these people were no more than his disposable henchmen.

Mario twisted in the seat slightly. “Would you prefer I lie?” he asked.

Laura shuddered, glancing out the window, to escape the ferocity of his gaze. 

They were nearing the city now, driving through a tunnel along the curve of a cliff. Out the other side, she saw the outline of the buildings – the promise of the ocean behind them. Relief flooded her. The return of civilization strengthened her. She touched her hand to the window. Soon, she’d be reunited with Martin, Olga, and Antonio. She’d be safe. They would alert the authorities and she could leave this tragic vacation behind her.

“No,” she said, finally, glancing back at Mario. “I’d prefer you get out of my life for good. Look, I appreciate your offer, but you really don’t need to -”

“You don’t give me orders.” Mario signaled the driver, who kicked down harder on the gas. Laura hastily grabbed at the door handle and the headrest of the seat in front of her. 

“Believe me, I’m the first person who would like to ditch you at the soonest possible second.” His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror, “But I can’t do that, not if I want to live. My loyalty belongs to Massimo alone. However misguided his infatuation with you.” His lip curled. The dislike curdled in the air between them. 

Laura couldn’t say that she disagreed. She didn’t care for Massimo’s bizarre attachment to her, either. Even if a part of her brain was flattered by it. Hadn’t she done the same thing as he had, though less extreme? She remembered him; she was always thinking she was seeing him in places that he couldn’t possibly be. That did not mean, however, that she would go around kidnapping people just because she had an attraction to them. It was merely lust. That she could deal with. It wasn't anything new.

“What is the purpose of Massimo’s empire, exactly?” she said. “Why would they want to kill me to get back at him?”

Mario muttered something to the driver. The truck lurched, and then, somehow, without Laura realizing, they were driving through the city streets.

They rounded a street corner. Her hotel appeared in front of them. She could have sobbed with relief, gripping the handle tighter. They did not stop, however; they drove right past it. She yelped.

“Hey! Hey, that was our stop! What are you doing? He promised. We had a deal!”

“Which we have every intention of keeping. We’re merely doing a sweep, first. You’re a target, remember.” Mario’s tone was barely civil. He really didn’t like her. Massimo had to be aware of this, and still he’d chosen to him to bring her back. He must really trust him. She wondered what their relationship was.

After a few tense minutes of circling the hotel, they pulled back up in front. Mario climbed out first, then opened her door for her and nodded his head, urging her to exit. She was already hurtling through the doorway, her platform sandals rattling across the cobblestones. She rushed past the old man toward the steps. Mario caught her by the elbow and sprinted up them with her. Their driver hit the gas and sped back around the corner. 

“I thought you were just dropping me off,” Laura said, confused, as the guard opened the door for her and hurried her inside.

Mario didn’t bother answering her. After pointing her toward the couches of the waiting room, he told her to wait while he spoke with the intelligence they’d already posted inside the hotel. She supposed she should have known better: of course they'd sent someone to scout ahead. She walked toward the waiting room, but refused to sit down. No one was going to attack her in an open space like this.

There was another woman seated in the room with her, clicking away on her laptop. Behind her, there was a man talking in a hushed voice into his phone. Typical hotel patrons. After darting a look at where Mario stood speaking with the person behind the front desk, she crossed the room to the man and tapped his shoulder.

“Excuse me,” she said, “can I borrow your phone?”

The man lowered the phone from his ear, his eyes widening. He cringed away from her. Frowning, she sniffed at her shoulder. She didn’t smell that bad, did she? She looked like your average person on vacation. There was no need for him to – the man dropped his phone and lifted both hands over his head. He continued retreating from her. Laura stiffened and sneaked a peek over her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” The woman who’d been driving the truck, Charlotte, grabbed Laura by her elbow and towed her away from them. “Are you a fool? Right now, you don’t know who you can trust. So you trust no one. Especially strangers. Got it?” Her fingers squeezed painfully tight. Startled tears stung Laura’s eyes. She nodded.

“Good.” The woman released her, then pointed toward the staircase. “Climb. Now.”

Laura glanced past her at Mario. He was watching them. He swatted his hand dismissively. If he wasn’t going to interfere, it was probably all right. She didn’t believe that these people would save her, anyway. They must think she was the most gullible person in the world if she went along with it.

Turning on her heel, she vaulted up the stairs, landing after landing, until she reached the floor they’d been staying at. She started to open the door leading onto the level when the woman – Charlotte – jerked her back.

“I go first,” she said.

Her hand went to the holster strapped to her thigh. She hovered it there, over the gun, then kicked the door open. There were two people across the corridor, opening the door to their suite. They jumped at the clang of the door, dropping their armloads of groceries.

Charlotte ignored their scathing looks and grumbled curses, as she scouted the hall. Laura felt slightly ridiculous, rolling on her heels behind her. She needed to get back to her friends. Now. Only then would she be able to make sense of what was happening. She’d explain to her Olga. She would know what to do. Olga always knew what to do. If the threat on her life was serious, then they’d figure things out together, with someone who worked in the law and could legally protect her.

“It’s safe,” Charlotte said, reaching back and grabbing Laura by the shoulder. She towed her down the corridor. “Which room?” she asked.

Laura blinked in surprise. She’d sort of assumed Charlotte already knew. She seemed like one of those calculated people who knew everything by mere instinct, and also, probably hours of research.

“There,” Laura said.

They stole up to the side of it and Charlotte knocked, keeping out of sight of the peephole. It was ridiculous. Martin might even be in there. He was probably out of his mind, searching for her. Laura opened her mouth to speak when Charlotte looked at her. She couldn’t decipher the look on her face. It almost seemed like...pity. Then Charlotte moved away from her and kicked the door in.

It splintered inward; it hadn’t been deadbolted. She yanked the gun from her holster and started forward into the room when an agonized moan churned through the air. Martin! Laura shot past Charlotte, slipping past her outstretched hand.

“Wait, damn it! Laura!” Charlotte hissed.

“Martin!” she cried. 

Maybe they’d been telling the truth. Maybe her life was in danger, and because they hadn’t been able to find her they’d gone after Martin. She should have been here, to warn him. What if they hurt him? It had been a stupid fight; she’d never forgive herself if he got hurt when she was the target. Her concerns were all frivolous, pointless – he was what mattered, and she – 

Laura thought at first that it seemed unusual that the assassin who had gone after him had undressed him first. Had somehow allowed herself to be pinned beneath him. 

Her brain tried to process the way his hands were wrapped around the assassin’s throat. The blankets twisted around them. The curtains pulled closed. The camera balanced on the nightstand, taping them.

Laura dissociated from the situation. From the hot pink stilettos on the floor. The shredded shorts and tie-dyed shirt.

“Martin?” she said. Her voice sounded so far away. 

He had to be in danger. This woman had clearly – she’d clearly attacked him...and...and she’d manipulated him into this position. There was no way, no way in hell that he’d...that...he would do this to her...not while she was missing, not after they’d had a fight (not really a fight, though, because no words had really been exchanged; he’d just avoided it, the way he always did and she’d fucking let him), not after he’d promised.

“Oh, shit.” Martin rolled away from the woman. “Shit. Laura. Shit. This isn’t what it looks like. Hold on. Hold on, okay? Let me explain. Let me tell you – Laura? Who’s that? Is that the police? Did you come to arrest me? Listen-”

His voice turned to a dreamlike dissonance; she stopped comprehending what he was saying. Her eyes were on the woman still sprawled in the bed. Her thick, gorgeously arched eyebrows were lifted in amusement. Her bubblegum pink lips skewed in a wry, schoolgirl grin. If the miles of her legs were anything to judge by, she was tall – probably a foot and a half taller than Laura, maybe more. She was so beautiful and careless and had no idea what she’d just done, what sort of an accomplice that Martin turned her into.  
Laura haltingly retreated back for the kicked in door.

She’d been terrified for him. Terrified of losing him. Martin. She’d assumed – well. She’d assumed he cared about her enough to at least file a missing persons report. To at least attempt to fight for her. But that was the problem. She was the one always fighting for him.

“Laura, Laura, are you all right?” That was Charlotte – her callous voice breaking through the clouds in Laura’s head. She glanced at her. Laura’s face felt cold, and lifting a hand to it, she realized she was crying. She couldn’t stop crying. 

“You aren’t going to faint, are you?” she asked.

Laura shook her head.

Charlotte’s face hardened. Tucking an arm protectively around Laura, she lifted her gun. Somewhere deep inside, there was a protest, not to shoot him, not to kill him, but it didn’t vocalize quickly enough. The shot blasted through the air and hit Martin in the side of his leg. With a bellow, he hit his knees on the floor. The woman in the bed screamed. Then Charlotte moved the two of them away from the doorway.

“The other room,” she said, “where is it?”

The question wasn’t necessary, as the door beside Martin’s suite stood open. There was a cleaning cart just inside the doorway. Laura moved toward it, she wasn’t sure how, she was pretty certain that she was hysterical, but it was Olga. Olga would help her. She cared about her. Laura knew that.

Charlotte stepped inside ahead of her. She looked in the bathroom, at the maid hiding under the sink. The room was empty. Her best friend’s suitcase was zippered up and placed on the far end of the room.

“Don’t move,” Charlotte told the maid. 

She nodded. 

The guard and Laura entered deeper into the room. Olga had taken her phone with her. That was good. Laura could use the hotel phone to call her, to explain what happened. For all she knew, her friend had already gone to the police. Or that’s what she hoped until she spotted the note on the bedside table.

Gone to the beach with the child, it said, in Olga’s sloppy handwriting. Call me when Laura comes back. Laura, if you’re reading this, what the hell, girl? Call me.

Laura read it three times. That was as many times as Charlotte allowed her before she tugged her back toward the corridor. 

“I’ll let you use my phone to call her,” she said, “but we can’t stay here.”

“They didn’t even realize I was missing,” Laura said, dazed.

It wasn’t as though she’d been gone that long; less than twenty-four hours, perhaps? There really was no call for them to have been concerned about her. They’d assumed she’d gone off and would return. That there was nothing to worry about. Didn’t they know her better than that? Didn’t they know she wouldn’t just take off without at least calling first?

Charlotte hustled her back past Martin’s suite. She peered in briefly at Martin, rolling on the carpet with his hand pressed against his thigh. The woman, to her credit, was on the phone, most likely with an ambulance. Laura thought they should stop, she needed to make sure that he was going to be all right, but the thought was fleeting, and every second that passed numbed her more and more.

They met Mario at the stairs.

“I heard a shot,” he said, not quite panicked, but with a healthy dose of concern.

Charlotte lifted her gun.

“My bullet. Let’s go.”

Mario gritted his teeth. “Is there a threat? Has it been neutralized?”

Charlotte shoved Laura at the stairs and she mechanically descended them.

“No threat. But the asshole has been neutralized, yes. Let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said. “We need to call this other person and see if this poor idiot has any decent people in her life.”

They were out of the hotel and back in the truck. It hadn’t even been twenty minutes. Charlotte tossed Laura her phone.

“Your friend only,” she said. “Got it?”

Laura nodded. With trembling fingers, she dialed Olga. 

She really shouldn’t have gone on vacation. This was turning out to be the worst trip of her life.


	12. The Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and her guardians go to the beach in search of Olga.

After Laura was directed to Olga’s voicemail for the third time, Charlotte got impatient and snatched the phone back out of her hand.

“Let’s just track this little bitch, shall we?” she muttered. She stabbed the pads of her fingers against the screen until she released a note of triumph and directed the driver to take the next exit leading to the beach.

Laura grabbed fistfuls of her hair and tugged. “She should be all right,” she said. “They wouldn’t have found her yet?”

Mario looked down the end of his nose at her. The sympathy she desperately wanted wasn’t going to come. Neither of them had any reason to empathize with her: her friends were nobody to them. The only reason she held any degree of importance was because Massimo for whatever bizarre reason, proclaimed that her life was valuable, at least to him. Enough to assign bodyguards to her.

By the time they reached the beach, Laura’s anxiety was cranked higher than she could stand. She couldn’t stop shaking. She exited the truck before it even stopped properly and was flying up the boardwalk to the sand. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to Olga.

“Get down!” Someone – Mario, maybe – roared from behind her. “It’s a bloody set up!”

Laura pivoted at the waist, glancing back at the truck. Charlotte was running at her, and behind her, Mario stood, gun cocked as he scanned the street. A whistling sound filled Laura’s ears. Her hair flew up against the side of her face. There was a scream and a howl, and then Charlotte was tackling Laura, pinning her to the concrete.

“Don’t fucking move,” she snarled. With her fingers to her earpiece, she told the rest of the crew that they were cornered.

Laura twisted from underneath Charlotte. “No! Let me go,” she begged. “Olga’s in danger! I have to get to her first! I have to -” she stopped talking. Her efforts had managed to make her land on her stomach, facing the beach. She recognized Olga immediately, her sunglasses pushed high on her forehead, her beach cover-up falling off her shoulders while she desperately cradled a motionless Antoni: a steadily growing pool of blood spreading around their bodies.

Laura threw up. “They shot him!” She howled. Charlotte yanked her back to her feet.

“And they’ll do the same to you. Get her back to the truck,” she said, shoving Laura at Mario. “I’m going to grab her before those fuckers do.”

Laura clawed against Mario’s arm tugging her relentlessly toward the truck. “I’m not leaving her here,” she screamed. “Olga! Olga! Here, I’m right here! Come on!”

Charlotte darted along the fence of the boardwalk, closing the distance between herself and Olga. Thirty feet. Twenty. Fifteen – a silent rain of bullets poured and she flipped herself over the railing into the foliage. A group of what Laura could only assume was the opposing Mafia gang surrounded Olga.

Her best friend shrieked in alarm, clutching closer to Antoni. She begged them to help him.

Mario opened the door. “Get in, now!”

Although it might cost Laura her life, she fought against the strong arms trying to lift her inside the truck. 

The Mafia members surrounding Olga didn’t care that they’d just shot her boyfriend. They didn’t care that she wasn’t Laura; that she’d done nothing except be her friend. They snatched her from the ground and before she could even think about resisting, plunged a syringe in the side of her neck. She drooped in their arms, unconscious.

Laura shoved Mario out of the way with a preternatural strength she didn’t even know she possessed. “Take me! Take me – not her. Please! I’ll do anything you want -”

She didn’t make it two steps before Charlotte slammed into her and hiked Laura over her shoulder, running back to the truck. She was thrown inside, the door slammed behind her. Laura slid across the seats to the other door, already tugging it open. Charlotte caught her around the waist and locked her back against her chest, arms and legs coiled tight around Laura in an unbreakable vice.

“I know,” she said, “but they won’t kill her. They’ll try to use her as leverage. If you handed yourself over to them, you’d wish you’d died first.”

Laura sobbed and screamed and scratched and bit and writhed against Charlotte – to no avail. The woman wouldn’t release her, no matter what she said. 

Her life wasn’t worth Olga’s. It was her fault her friend had been targeted. No. Wait. It was Massimo’s fault. If he hadn’t wormed his way back into her life – kidnapping and taking her and making powerful, wicked enemies – none of this would have happened. 

If they wouldn’t let Laura trade her life for Olga, then she sure as hell was going to give these people the worst side of her nature. After she strangled fucking Massimo.

The thought of fighting to save her friend calmed her, slightly. It was something in the vicinity of a plan. She’d have to be smart about this. Most likely, they only have a very short window to save Olga. She needed to use Massimo’s expendable gang to her advantage to get her friend back. 

"Take me back to him," she said. Her voice didn't even sound like her own.

"Already on our way. They won't dare attack if we're on his grounds," Charlotte said. She might have been trying to comfort Laura, but she was past that. 

She was going to get Olga back.

A tiny voice in the back of her mind asked why she wasn't as concerned as protecting Martin. But she shoved it - shoved it and the image of him cheating on her, shoved every aspect of him and his lies out of her head. She wasn't going to think about that now. One thing at a time. She would save Olga first, and then, afterward, she'd deal with him.

Once they were all safe.


	13. Shaking Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and Massimo strike their official bargain: she'll stay for a year to help him take down the enemy, but first -they need to rescue Olga from his enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Everyone! Sorry for the gap in updates. I'm going to try to keep the chapter updates more regular. 
> 
> Hope you like the latest one! <3

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Massimo said, as soon as Laura and her entourage flung open the front door of his mansion.

She thought fleetingly about slapping him across the face, but she needed him to be her ally. He might be the root cause of everything that happened, but he hadn’t captured her best friend. He was, however, going to help retrieve her.

“Teach me,” she said.

Massimo looked confused. Mario clapped a hand on his shoulder, before moving deeper into the house, fishing his phone out of his pocket and dialing what was presumably more security. Charlotte paused behind Laura, reluctant to leave her, until Massimo nodded, dismissing her from the foyer. After a final, lingering look at Laura, she, too, retreated, leaving the two of them alone.

“Teach you what?” he asked, weary, adjusting his stance as if he expected her to tackle him.

“To fight. To win. Whatever bloody strategies we need to get my best friend back, alive, unharmed. How do we stop these people?” 

Massimo rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I take it you’ve realized that they aren’t going to stop with just her, right? That they’ll go after everyone you know. Your family. Acquaintances. Neighbors. Everyone and anyone you know until they make you break.”

Her eyes hardened. “They stole your father from you. Don’t you want to see them at your mercy? Don’t they deserve to be punished?”

Massimo gestured for her to walk down the corridor ahead of him. She did, uncertain what he had in mind and wondering if she should have insisted on Charlotte’s presence. She trusted her slightly more than the rest of them, because she seemed to possess a soul, and a moderate competency in her task.

“Of course I do,"' Massimo said. "But this is a strategic game. Alliances are brittle. Everyone wants to gather behind the person who is most powerful. When your reign is being threatened, they do not care that you might beat the enemy. The point is that you’re weak now. I can’t afford to lose any more of my people to them. I won’t let them take this away from me.”

“That will take too long!” She snapped. The politics of war were a long, tedious gamble, and she wasn’t going to risk it with Olga’s life on the line.

Massimo pushed open the carved double doors to their right, opening to an armory. The walls were covered in ancient weapons, new age weapons – weapons Laura had never seen before in her life. She paused at one display housing slender, dual black guns. They looked glossy and horrific as death, somehow. It deepened the reality of her actions. If she did this, she might end up killing people. Bad people, perhaps. People who had murdered and abducted and ruined others. But still. She’d be the person casting judgment on them, firing the bullet or wielding the knife.

Laura swallowed, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

“You say you want me to teach you," he continued, "What makes you think I’d let you – YOU! – go out there in enemy territory? That’s completely ignoring why I protected you in the first place! I won’t have it!”

Laura slammed her hands down on the display so hard her palms stung. “You don’t get to decide. Because I’m saving her. If you want me to help you vanquish these assholes, we’re going to be doing it on my terms. We’re going to do this as equals. Otherwise, fine. Let them kill me.”

Laura knew, as soon as she said it, that she really ought to have worded it a little bit differently. His eyes went wild. She flinched, preparing for the speech that would reflect the speeches of all the men she’d ever disagreed with in the past – men with tempers probably nowhere near as bad as his. But for all the feral anger in his eyes, his voice, when he spoke, was soft, resigned.

“I will teach you,” he said. “We’ll get her back and we’ll take down their empire together.” He paused, extending his hand to her. “Stay with me for a year and help me make them yield.”

Laura examined the tattooed fingers reaching for her. Hiding scars. Concealing the injuries from a battle he’d been fighting his entire life. What choice did she have, really? Now that she was a target, everyone she’d ever crossed paths with was a target. Twelve months with him, fighting back to back with him, to defeat a common enemy. She could handle this. It was a plan. A known portion of the equation. All she had to do was solve for the unknown variable.

She grabbed his hand and shook it, sealing their agreement. “A year,” she said.

His hand tightened around hers, something stealing through his expression she didn’t quite like...something that told her there was another reason he wanted to keep her here for a year. Laura promised herself she would tackle that question later. Right now, Olga needed saving.

Yanking her hand out of Massimo’s, she lifted her chin and asked, “How do we get her back?”

Massimo sighed. “We’ll lure them out with irresistible bait,” he said, begrudgingly. “Charlotte.” He lifted a hand and the guard stepped through the doors. She’d returned to them while they were talking. Laura shivered. She hadn’t even observed her. That was something she would have to learn, if she wanted to survive. Always being on the lookout and hyper aware of her surroundings.

“Yes, sir?” she said.

Massimo locked eyes with Laura. His throat bobbed. “Take her to get changed. Please. Have her ready to leave again in fifteen minutes.”

Laura’s pulse spiked. “Don’t I need a weapon?” she asked. Charlotte grabbed her arm and started to tow her out of the room.

Massimo scowled. “You are the weapon,” he told her.


	14. Out to Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and Charlotte arrive at the gates of the enemy.

Laura tugged at the high collared shirt Charlotte had given her. It fitted tightly over the bulletproof vest she’d strapped her into. The two of them were crouched in the back of the van. It lurched over a pot hole and nearly threw Laura off her feet. Charlotte caught her by the elbow and towed her back upright.

“Thanks,” Laura said quietly, immediately yanking her arm away.

The guard studied her, no doubt evaluating her weaknesses and how much of a liability she would be to the mission. She couldn’t deny that she might be one, but there was not even a sliver of a possibility she was letting them do this without her. Finally, Laura couldn’t stand the silence anymore and said, “How much longer until we get there?”

Charlotte rested her head against the side of the van. “We’re almost there,” she said.

“Okay.” Laura nodded. “What’s going to be expected of me when we get there?” 

She was surprised Massimo had insisted the two of them drive separately. If his previous behavior was anything to judge by, she would have assumed he would have glued her to his side. Unless, the sneaking suspicion entered her head, this was actually being done to placate her, and they were going to pretend to attack. How would she know any different? Unconsciously, her fingers curled into her palms so hard she yelped. If this was a ruse...if they weren't actually going to rescue Olga...she might just lose her mind. Charlotte grabbed her again. Laura looked away from the bloodied crescents decorating the insides of her palms. She released a breath, and then another, trying to calm her speeding heartbeat. If she fainted now,she would never forgive herself. Olga needed her.

“Why does this woman mean so much to you?” Charlotte asked.

The terrain beneath the van changed from rut-pocketed roads to smooth pavement. Laura straightened, trying to catch sight of their location through the windshield. It was impossible to decipher the world outside. The day had somehow descended to dusty twilight, all the brilliant edges rubbed away until everything was muted and difficult to see.

“I love her,” Laura said. “She’s my family.”

Still, the guard studied her. “Is she worth it?” she asked. “The bargain you’ve made? This isn’t your fight.”

Laura glowered. “It became my fight the instant they started targeting the people I love.”

The van turned sharply, tossing Laura onto her side on the van’s floor. Charlotte didn’t bother trying to help her up; she rose to her feet, grabbing one of the hooks on the ceiling.

“Get ready,” the driver called back to them. The van’s bumper slammed against something that released an earsplitting screech, and with a groan something fell. Laura scrambled to her feet, slightly dizzy. She reached a hand out to the wall to help her balance. Charlotte brushed past her to the back doors of the van and kicked them wide. She jumped down in a gravel walk, over what appeared to be a gate that the driver had knocked down. It must not have been welded properly, Laura thought, confused. A spotlight ignited over Charlotte. She hefted her fist in the air.

“We come on behest of Massimo,” she roared into the night.

Laura wobbled forward to the opened doors and jumped down beside Charlotte.

The guard grabbed her arm and hefted it above her head.

“We have Laura Biel,” she shouted to whoever was watching them from the shadows. 

It was a sleight of hand – a magic trick; it was the only reasonable explanation Laura could think of, because, all at once, they were surrounded by dozens of people who she hadn’t perceived before. Dozens of them, weapons armed and aimed at them. Charlotte retreated until her back was against Laura. Nausea throbbed in her stomach. The sting of bile climbed up her throat, but she swallowed hard against it and steeled herself. Every single cell in her body trembled. If their plan didn't work, she would be in the hands of people who didn't care if she lived or died. People who Massimo had made it abundantly clear would torture her out of revenge.

“Don’t let them separate us,” Charlotte hissed under breath to Laura, without breaking eye contact from the rival mafia members surrounding them. “Do you understand?”

In response, Laura locked her hand around Charlotte’s and lifted her chin, staring her newfound enemy headlong.


	15. Separation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Massimo is true to his word and Laura accepts her fate.

“Curious,” one of the men in front said. “I thought you’d be taller. What attracts our Don Massimo to you?”

Laura’s heart faltered and her body’s temperature descended a few degrees. “What?” she asked. She turned to Charlotte, who tightened her grip on Laura’s hand. A siren screeched in the distance. Laura rose higher on her toes, looking at the building. Every single window glowed with flame, black smoke curling above the rooftop. Laura shot forward in spite of herself, but Charlotte caught her and dragged her back.

“No, you don’t. We were waiting for the signal, little lamb. And there it is.” She pointed to the snap of white fabric clutched in an operative’s fist – undoubtedly one of Massimo’s soldiers – along the rooftop.

Charlotte steered Laura by her shoulders back toward the vehicle and practically tossed her inside. “To your posts,” she snapped at the remaining soldiers.

Laura landed on her butt on the floor of the van, feeling abominably ill-used. She lifted her eyes to Charlotte as the guard closed the doors securely behind them. She barked at the driver to go. Laura could only imagine they were being escorted by the soldiers outside. There had never been any risk of her being in danger. It had all been for show, to pacify her, to make her think she was making a difference, helping her friend.

“You tricked me,” she hissed at Charlotte.

The guard cast her a disdainful look. “It was for your own good. Untrained, you wouldn’t survive ten seconds in their midst. We only did what we had to, to protect you.”

Laura ground her nails against her palms. For several minutes she was too viciously angry to say anything else. They deceived her as easily as if she was a child. All that preparation, the bullet-proof vest – it had all been for her benefit. Massimo had outsmarted her. She should have known he would, the bastard. It was no doubt a typical evening for him.

“Is she safe? Did they at least save her?” Laura finally said, tipping her head back to look up at Charlotte.

The guard allowed herself a flicker of a smile before looking away. “You really thought he was going to let you go after her, didn’t you? That’s an uncommon sort of loyalty. There are not many people like that in this world.”

Laura planted her hand on the wall and climbed up to her feet. The van seemed much more stable this time around, now that she knew the secret, they weren’t trying so hard to make it seem authentic. Could this Massimo even be trusted? He claimed she could help him get his ill-gained empire back in order, but what did that mean, to him? That she would be his glorified doll, to be looked at and patted on the head, ready for his disposal or whenever the mood struck him? No.

“Will I get to see her?” she asked. She needed to see for herself that Olga was all right. It was the only way she would be able to tolerate being separated from her for the year she’d agreed to.

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder. “Yes,” she said. “I should think so.”

They stopped driving much sooner than Laura expected. She pushed the back doors open and was the first one springing to the ground. They were back at Massimo’s fortress of a mansion. The circular gravel driveway was filled with armored vehicles. The one nearest to the entrance of the mansion opened its doors and Olga flew out of them at Laura.  
The two friends crashed together, hugging painfully tight, speaking in broken sobs and garbled questions, trying to reassure each other that they were alive, that they were all right.

“Who are these people, Laura?” Olga whispered, pulling back far enough to look at her face. “What do they want with you?”

Laura wanted to be able to tell her; but the less she knew, the better. She wouldn’t involve her any deeper in this disastrous situation. She chewed on her lip, glancing past her friend while she tried to figure out what to say. Her gaze landed on Massimo, dressed in black, a fitted bullet-proof vest on the exterior of his clothing. He handed off a sizable machine gun to one of his guards. Spots of blood discolored the gravel at his feet. He was bleeding.

For a brief, horrible moment Laura wished that the shot had been fatal; then, his enemies would have gotten what they wanted and they would leave her alone. She was useless to them without Massimo in the equation. She immediately felt guilty for the thought. He had retrieved her friend, after all. He’d rescued her, despite all his qualms. He’d kept them both safe, for the time being. That had to make him possess at least a sliver of merit, however wrong it had been for him to drag her into his turf war.

“They think I have power over their enemy,” she said, at last, looking at Olga.

Olga’s brow rumpled. Her fingers dug sharply into Laura’s shoulders. “Do you?”

I must, Laura thought, as Massimo approached.

“She can’t stay here,” he said. “I have her flight booked to return to Poland. She needs to leave now.”

“Now?” The women said it in tandem.

Massimo slowly nodded, once, and guards approached them. Olga clung fast to Laura.

“Laura’s coming, too,” she said. “I’m not leaving her here.”

The guards caught her arms. To her credit, she struggled against them. Laura could only watch, helpless and heart-shattered, as they pinned Olga’s arms behind her back and held her in place, rigidly between them.

“Laura,” she said. “Why aren’t you fighting this? You can’t stay here.”

Laura registered the tears falling down her face, but she couldn’t feel them. It was as though she was transforming into that plastic doll Massimo wanted her to be. Fake. Convenient. Pretty.

“I promised,” she said, her words barely audible. “I have to stay here.”

Olga’s eyes went wild. “With him? Laura, you don’t know these people! They’re dangerous! He’s dangerous!”

“I had to save you,” Laura said.

The guards started towing Olga back toward the truck. She bucked and thrashed in their arms. She didn’t care that they’d just saved her. She didn’t care if she hurt them. She only knew that she didn’t want to leave Laura behind. They were best friends. They promised to always be there for each other, to protect each other. Laura intended to keep that promise. Just, from a distance.

“What? No. No! I won’t leave you! I won’t let them keep you here. Laura! Laura!”

Laura straightened to her full height. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t let them hurt you. It’s only for a year. I’ll be all right.”

With super human strength, Olga broke free of one of the guards and strained forward to get to Laura. They wrestled her back against the truck. 

“A year?” she shrieked. “No. I’ll notify the law. I won’t let them. I’ll have every single last one of you bitches arrested!”

Laura choked on a sob, clapping both hands over her mouth, trying to swallow the sound. She needed to be strong, to make this easier for her friend. “It’s going to be all right,” she said numbly. “I promise. I swear to you. In a year, I’ll come home. We’ll see each other again.”

The guards slammed the door closed behind Olga and the driver immediately peeled out in the driveway, gone in a plume of dust.

Laura’s body flinched, incredibly attuned to Massimo approaching behind her. She whirled at him, unwilling to have her back to him. It made her feel vulnerable. 

“You tricked me,” she said, then punched him in the face. He blinked down at her. “Don’t you ever do that again,” she continued, vicious, furious, before stalking toward the mansion.

Her heart was racing much too fast. She pressed her hand against her chest and attempted to calm herself with deep breaths. Her vision filled with black bubbles that scrubbed the sight of the fortress out of existence. It dulled the sounds of the guards, the retreating vehicles, the shouts of those nearest to her from her ears. There was a relief, she thought, in being erased from reality. Her body tipped, and she marveled in the gravity that bent her toward earth.

She kept waiting for the bite of gravel that would surely wake her up. But it didn’t.


	16. Personal Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura meets Domenico and learns that he's going to be her personal trainer for some self defense sessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah. Yes. The sexual tension. One of the best parts of this fic. I feel like it's gotten a little off base (sorry about that! pun intended LOL) But now I think we're finally getting to the good stuff.  
> Anyway. Thanks for reading! For everyone who's stuck around this far, thanks for having patience with me, and for anyone just discovering it, hey, welcome! I don't update as often as I should but I hope you enjoy it!  
> Cheer's to it officially being over 20K!!!

“Wake up!” Someone shouted.

Laura screamed and flipped over the edge of the bed, crashing to the floor in a heap of blankets. She wrestled them away from her face, tossing the tangled mass of her hair out of her eyes to glare at the intruder in her room. Her first thought was that it was her new unfortunate partner for the next year: Massimo. But it wasn’t; this man was shorter. In fact, she didn’t recall encountering him before. She squinted her eyes at him.

“Who the fuck are you?” she grumbled, climbing to her feet.

“Domenico,” he said, with a guilty smile. “I didn’t mean to startle you – I just...well, I needed to make sure everyone knows that I’m only here to wake you up and not –take advantage of you while you’re sleeping.” He tucked his hands in his pockets and the smile on his face brightened into something more genuine. He looked too soft to be one of Massimo’s cronies.

“How courteous of you,” she said, snippy, and yawned. “Why’d you wake me up so early?” She’d caught a glimpse through the window. The sun hadn’t even risen yet. It couldn’t be more than four or perhaps five in the morning. She did not approve of this. There was no plausible account for her to be up this early when she’d simply be holing up in Massimo’s mansion for the length of time they’d agreed to. After what happened yesterday, she certainly didn’t except him to keep his word that they’d be “equal partners in taking down his enemy’s empire.”

“Oh, Massimo didn’t tell you?” Domenico looked surprised. “I’m going to be training you.”

It was too early for them to be having this conversation. She rubbed a hand over her face, trying to scrub the exhaustion away.

“What are you talking about? Train me for what? How to appear meek and docile?”

“No,” Domenico said, either not heeding her sarcastic tone or ignoring it, “your self defense training.”

Laura’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Get dressed,” he said, evidently not interested in this part of the conversation. 

Clearly, he thought she’d been aware of this. Had she? She couldn’t remember if this was one of the things she’d discussed with Massimo. So many things had happened in the past few days that she was getting them confused. Once Domenico reached the door, he turned to look back at her.

“Meet me in the courtyard in a quarter hour, understand? Bring a towel and some water.” He grinned. “And welcome to the war, by the way. Believe it or not, we’re actually excited to have you here.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you are. Someone to keep your boss distracted, huh? To please that little two-faced, tiny-dicked fucker?” The words curdled on her tongue as the door opened slightly wider, revealing Massimo standing in the hall, arms crossed. He looked as though he’d been out all night: his hair was damp and dripping down his face, the gear he was wearing ripped in a few places. He had a bandage wrapped around his hand.

Domenico yelped and tried to close the door, but Massimo lunged forward and caught it.

Laura’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. She didn’t care about what she’d said, only that she’d said it with him present. The last thing she needed was for him to resent her. Unless, if she did make him resent her, he’d get bored with her and let her go back home. Maybe that would make him stop caring. The temporary embarrassment abated and she smiled sweetly at him.

“Good Morning, Asshole,” she said.

Massimo nodded. “Morning. Are you ready to train? I figured you’d want to start as soon as possible. We want to make sure that you can defend yourself before we proceed with this...plan. What. What are you doing?”

Trying to make him as uncomfortable as possible, that was what she was doing. She’d peeled her shirt over her head. She’d fallen asleep fully clothed, which made what she was doing slightly less scandalous because she had on underwear and a bra to hide all her assets. She tossed the shirt behind her on the bed.

Massimo’s dark eyes widened, his lips slightly parted. He looked a little dizzy. Domenico, standing a little behind him, merely looked amused.

Laura unbuttoned her pants and shimmied out of them. The air was surprisingly cold against her skin and goose bumps prickled up the length of her legs. She’d always thought she’d had nice, long legs, in correlation to the rest of her body. They were shapely, with molded calves that smoothed into slender ankles. It made up for her lack of upper body curves. There were times when she was envious of her voluptuous friend, in that regard. It seemed women with curvier bodies were more desirable than those who couldn’t boast that same advantage.

She glanced up from the floor to find Massimo’s eyes blazing. His gaze trailed up her legs, lingering on her thighs and hips – between her legs – up her stomach and ribs to her chest and finally, settling on her face. His hand trembled against the door. 

Laura’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Interesting. “Are you going to keep watching, or do I need to turn you out of the room, Asshole?” she asked. 

It was difficult keeping her tone from being triumphant, but she couldn’t help it, with the way he was looking at her as though he didn’t care in the least that Domenico was right there. He was attracted to her. But he’d said as much before. She shouldn’t be so surprised that he had been telling the truth.

Her words startled him back to awareness, out of whatever deep, ghastly place he’d descended into. He shook his head.

“Right. Erm. I’ll go – Domenico, get down to the courtyard –I’m leaving. I’m going. Okay. No, actually, Laura.” He’d started to close the door but opened it wide again and locked eyes with her. She’d reached behind her back for the clasp of her bra, but didn’t undo it. Not with him staring at her like that. It made her feel obscenely powerful. Made her wonder what sounds she could get him to make if she were to touch him. She bet he would be loud – a screamer, maybe.

“Listen,” he said. “I’m not – I’m not going to touch you without your consent. This doesn’t – this doesn’t have to become anything. You don’t owe me anything more than our deal. And you. Laura. What are you doing now?” He sounded terrified. 

She sauntered across the room to him and smiled up at his face, close enough to touch him but resisting the urge. She could most definitely get him to want her gone. She simply needed the right ammunition. Every moment she had in his presence gave her further insight to who he was as a man. Within a month, he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore and would ship her off to Poland.

“That’s good,” she said. “I’m glad you keep saying that. Because some men don’t understand what it is to want something,” her eyes cut to his waist. Lower. Then flitted back to his eyes with an uncanny smile that made him swallow hard. “And not get it,” she continued. “Just in case I haven’t made myself clear, I am not going to sleep with you. This is not a relationship of anything except revenge. We want the same thing. That is all. So don’t think for one second that I’m ever going to let you put your hands on me, because it’s never going to happen.” 

She smiled at him, the same way she’d smiled at her co-workers across the conference room table before she’d left on her doomed trip. “Even if you beg.” She pivoted from him, moving back toward the closet, and without bothering to wait until he left, unclasped her bra and let it slide off her body.

After a heartbeat, she glanced over her shoulder in time to see him lift his eyes to the ceiling and close the door.

This might actually be fun. Payback for what he’d dragged her into. People in positions of power thought that they could use that power to manipulate everyone to their whims. Well. Massimo was going to learn that she was not someone he could coax into doing whatever he wanted. He didn’t have that kind of power over her.

She changed into a set of workout clothes – crop top and yoga pants with curious cutouts all the way up the sides. Sexy, she mouthed at her reflection in the full length wall mirror. You are sexy, and you are going to own it, and he’s going to break down after you’re through with him. He won’t be able to get rid of you fast enough.

She grinned and pranced for the bedroom door.


	17. Domenico's Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domenico develops a self defense program for Laura and enlightens her about why Massimo is fighting back against his enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Happy Friday, everyone! Here's another little dollop of story. Hope you like it! <3

It was hotter outside than she’d expected for the early hour. The courtyard stretched vast, heat waves shimmering up from the cobblestones. A stone wall circumvented the property, relieved by the thick hedge flanking it. A magnificent fountain jutted at the center, silent and dry. Laura wondered how frequently Massimo resided here. Or was this the only place he’d trusted her with?

Domenico rose from where he’d sprawled on the stone bench near the foot of the fountain.

“Finally,” he said, grinning. He cocked his head at her. 

“Look,” he said, “it’s none of my business what you do with my boss. But I’m not someone who likes to be left waiting. This is your only warning. If you’re late, you won’t get any training, and then it will be longer before Massimo will allow you out in the field with him.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Logically, Laura knew he was just as lethal as the rest of Massimo’s minions, but she couldn’t muster enough fear to be intimidated by him. He was softer than the others, less fierce. She could see herself becoming friends with him.

“Are we understood?” he said, breaking her out of her reverie.

Laura nodded, slowly placing her towel and water bottle on the bench where he’d been laying.

“Every day, at this time, we’re going to run drills. I’ll teach you everything I know about his enemies. I will attempt to do everything in my power to make sure when you do go out there, you’re ready.” He lifted his chin.

Laura’s muscles ached, and they hadn’t even started yet. She nodded again, in readiness, accepting her fate. Domenico allowed himself a brief, encouraging smile. Then his expression changed, and Laura saw it then: how he’d survived in Massimo’s company.

He worked her hard: laps around the courtyard, and beyond – along the entire length of the grounds while he explained her boundaries. She wasn’t exactly restricted to the mansion. She could go anywhere in the surrounding area, to the nearby towns, accompanied by Massimo’s troops, of course.

By the time they returned to the courtyard, her legs were shaking and her skin was damp with sweat. But they weren’t done yet: they went over the different forms of self defense. He asked her what she was familiar with, what she felt most comfortable doing, so they could design a program specific to her fighting style and instincts. 

Sweat stung her eyes and she paused to drain the last of the water from her water bottle, wishing she’d thought to bring another. Panting, she dabbed the perspiration from her face with her towel, barely listening to Domenico as he told her the defense program he was designing for her.

“We’ll rely on your strengths, and build them up. This is excellent progress.” He offered her a high five, which she wrinkled her nose at. It was the first time he’d been condescending toward her, as if he thought she needed his praise. It transported her right back to the table, surrounded by her male co-workers, the ones who assumed that, because she was a woman, she’d never be as successful as they were.

“Let’s do your cool down. Come on, I’ll bring you back to the pool and you can shower off.”

Laura coiled her towel around her neck and trailed after Domenico across the courtyard. She didn’t want to admit how sore she was already. She was going to be in agony when they trained tomorrow. Along the upper battlements of the mansion, more of the troops paced, keeping watch along the perimeter.

“Who are these people that are Massimo’s enemy?” she asked, quickening her pace until she was in sync with her trainer.

Domenico paused at the gate separating the courtyard from the pool deck. His hand lifted to the handle but he didn’t open it. He turned to gaze at her.

“Massimo’s father,” he said, “once had a unified empire. But it divided when one of the factions became greedy. Now they’re eager to claim the rest of it for themselves.”

Laura had seen firsthand how brutal they were, but she had to question if Massimo was no better than they were. She was simply on their side. That didn’t mean she thought they were any better. They had kidnapped her, after all. They were the mafia.

“What’s the difference? Why doesn’t he just give up the territory and do something legitimate with himself?”

Laura shoved past Domenico and opened the gate herself. The expanse of pool was exquisite; the water was deep cobalt and looked like something out of a lagoon. She paused at the brink of it, gazing along its serpentine length. It traced the shape of a figure eight across the pool deck, with an island at the center.

Without quite deciding to do it, she found herself untying her shoes and shimmying our of her yoga pants.

“Because if he gave up the territory,” Domenico said, striding up to her heap of clothes on the edge of the pool, “people would die. He might not be...a saint. None of us are, but he’s doing his best to protect innocents from trafficking. Slave trade. Preying on children. Without us, the wanton violence and lack of basic humanity would destroy this city. Someone needs to keep the evil in check.”

Laura slowly eased herself into the pool. The crisp coolness breathed against the humidity of her skin. She imagined it dousing the internal flames, sending smoke hissing up from her shoulders. She sighed, sinking all the way down until only her face was out of the water.

“Why not the authorities? Someone who can do it legally?” she asked.

Domenico scoffed. “They’re useless. The trouble with weeding, Ms. Biel,” he said, dropping to a crouch and meeting her gaze, “is that most people rip out the plant only. They miss the roots. And it always surprises them when it grows back with a vengeance.”

She closed her eyes. The water lapped gently against her face. She couldn’t remember the last time her body had felt so extraordinarily used, but in a good way. It distracted her from everything else. Fear that Olga wouldn’t make it back to Poland safely. Hatred at her boyfriend (ex-boyfriend, even if he didn’t know it yet, they were done, she was done) for cheating on her, over and over and over again. Of being a prisoner and aid in Massimo’s madman schemes. Though she had to admit, there was truth to what they were saying. The authorities couldn’t handle this. They’d spot the easy target, eradicate it, and think that it would resolve the problem. No. Domenico was right: they needed to strike from the roots, tear them completely out of the ground to keep them from spreading.

“So, after I train, after I’m...ready,” she opened her eyes and peered up at him, “What will my role be?”

Domenico smiled again.

“Fifteen minutes,” he said, “then we begin our next set before lunch.” 

He strode off the pool deck, saluting the two officers who arrived to relieve him from monitoring her. Laura groaned, and lifted her eyes to the wall of windows on this side of the mansion. The highest window, near the tower, was open, with the curtains tugged to the side. For a moment, she thought she saw Massimo there, watching her, but she blinked, and the window casement was empty.

Sucking in a deep breath, she ducked under the water into the absolute silence it offered and pretended that her life was still normal.


	18. A Test of Wills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura shows Massimo what she's learned while training with Domenico and he agrees to take her with him tonight on their first mission against the rival mafia.

One week. One hundred sixty-eight hours. That was how long Laura had been stuck in Massimo’s mansion, working with Domenico. She’d discovered levels of pain she’d never experienced before. Never in her life had she felt less purposeful. Every morning, she woke up expecting something to happen – an attack on the mansion, or Massimo telling her that they were going to be infiltrating their enemies’ fortress. But every morning she was disappointed by the punctual appearance of Domenico at her door, occasionally accompanied by Charlotte, and once by Mario. All she'd done for the past week was train with him.

“When are we going to do something?” She asked Domenico every morning. “I feel useless. I’m not doing anything. I don’t see the point of my presence if we’re just waiting for something else to happen.”

Domenico would shrug his shoulders in response. “When Massimo says you’re ready.”

But, she raged internally, how was the bastard supposed to know if she was ready or not when he wasn’t around in the first place? He'd been scarce - she only caught glimpses of him in his office, or crossing the courtyard late at night. She suspected most days he wasn't even at the mansion. She was getting impatient with waiting around for his decision. 

Now here she was a week later, working her aggression off in the gardens, no further along than she'd been when she first arrived, as far as conquering his rival mafia was concerned. She stripped out of her t-shirt to work in her shorts and sports bra. The sun was viciously hot against her spine and she was counting down the seconds until she could leap in the pool. Her skin glistened with perspiration, a throbbing ache in her biceps, along her legs.

Domenico had wandered off a few minutes ago, taking a phone call that he didn’t want her to hear. The rest of the grounds were eerily quiet, as if the entire world was collectively holding its breath in wait for what came next.

Laura tossed her hair, sizing herself up against the body bag that had been hauled out to her training corner. With a groan, she leveled another kick at the side of the bag. Her body trembled with exhaustion. It was deeply satisfying working herself this hard, however. It kept her distracted from everything else – from the fact that she hadn’t had a real conversation with Massimo in days, and that basically all she’d done was work out, eat, and sleep. A part of herself mourned her career. Would she be missed? Had they tried to reach her? She didn’t have any way of contacting them: Domenico had explained that their enemies sought information by hacking their technological devices. She didn’t want to chance them going after her co-workers, however dickish they were.

She lurched forward in a one-two punch, her fists crashing against the bag with a pleasing thunder.

Today, she was going to talk to Massimo. She wasn’t going to let the sun set on another day without speaking with him. Either he had her do something useful, or she was going to have to find another way to help the situation. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d had so much time to herself.

She drew back, preparing for another set of punches when her nerves buzzed. She straightened and glanced over her shoulder. Massimo strode across the garden to her. His powerful thighs worked against the suit he was wearing and the irrational urge to bite them possessed her for a heartbeat. She shook her head as he drew closer to her.

“Where have you been?” she asked, before he could open his mouth.

Massimo smiled at her. “Miss me?” he looked at her through his lashes. He looked more...professional this afternoon: hair slicked back, dressed in a crisp black suit with a red tie. A tic beat in her jaw.

“So you can return to your lifestyle, but I can’t?” she would have clenched her fists if they weren’t bound in the boxing wraps. She wanted to clock him across the face. All this time, he’d been working her, acting like she was going to be useful to him, and like the naive little child she was, she’d gone along with it, thinking that at some point, she would serve her purpose. 

He cocked his head at her. “Laura. You’ve been training. And I have to keep up appearances, otherwise they’ll expect something. We have to be smart about this.”

“Do we?” she shoved his chest. “How long were you going to work me for? When would I be good enough to help you?” 

She shoved him again. He was solid and barely moved, even though she was not being gentle. She wanted to knock him to the ground. The image of him like that – splayed against the cobblestones, her legs straddling him while he smirked up at her – made her flush with heat. Damn him for being so unnaturally desirable. Until she’d encountered him, she’d never been so horny in her life.

You’re mad at him, she reminded herself. You want to be useful, not to use him.

He raised his eyebrows at her. “You think you’re ready?”

“Yes,” she snapped.

Massimo studied her for the longest time, then he slowly pulled off his suit jacket and tossed it onto a nearby bench. 

“All right,” he said, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling the sleeves to his elbows while Laura’s mind emptied of everything except: armsarmsarmsarmsarmsarmsarmsarms.

“Prove it.” He grinned at her so fiercely he dimpled. Another rush of heat slammed through Laura. She actually stumbled forward.

“You can’t be serious,” she said.

“I am. Show me what you’ve learned. Prove your ready, and this very night, I’ll take you with me.” His eyes sparkled, as if he knew this would be too good for her to resist. The thought of wrestling with him however turned on the feral part of Laura’s brain. She wanted nothing more than to pin him down. But being that close to him wasn’t a good idea. Memories of them on the beach, of that first meeting between them made her hesitant. If she touched him in this state of mind, there was no saying how far her body would take her without her mind’s acquiescence.

She narrowed her eyes. “What about the suit you’re wearing?”

He shrugged. “If you don’t think you’re ready,” he started to say.

Laura switched off the warring part of her brain and catapulted at him. He expected her to hit high, so she ducked down in a crouch and went for his legs. He laughed in surprise as she tackled him to the ground, hooking her arms through his and twisting them until he was laying on his stomach on the cobblestones with both his arms locked against his back. She sat on his spine.

“Think I’m ready now?” she said.

“Domenico’s taught you well, baby girl,” Massimo crooned. He arched his back against her and her breath whooshed out of her lungs at the surge of his body. Before she was aware of what he was doing, he’d flipped them, and had her pinned. The cobblestones were rough against her shoulder blades. She growled, rising up away from them, but Massimo pushed her back down.

She was trapped by him. With a sigh, she relaxed against the ground. He was going to use this as an excuse to keep her here, useless, for at least another week. She wracked her brains for some of the techniques Domenico had taught her. Her eyes flicked back up to Massimo’s to find him gazing at her with wonder, as if he’d only now realized their position. He had one knee between her legs, and a hand on each of her shoulders.

Laura bit back her smirk, telling herself that what she was about to do was only so she could go with Massimo tonight and not spend the rest of the afternoon training. Not to see if his body was as electric and desirable as she remembered.

Without looking away from his eyes, she canted her hips up against his. His eyes flared wide in surprise, his mouth falling open slightly. He lifted his chin and rocked back slightly against her, testing, responding in spite of himself. A sparkling explosion of sensation crackled through Laura’s veins. Unbidden, the image of Martin entered her head. The sight of him with that woman, cheating on her.

Laura slammed against Massimo with all her strength, ignoring the way his arms wrapped around her in response, cradling her body closer to avoid any spaces between them. She rolled them until Massimo was at her feet and then she placed her hand against his neck.

“Take me with you tonight,” she ordered.

Massimo’s throat bobbed underneath her hand, but he smiled dotingly at her. 

“Yes,” he said, stretching the length of his body against hers. Laura hastily scrambled to her feet. That was one experience she definitely wasn’t up to. Even though a spiteful part of her wanted to do it, to get back at Martin for what he’d repeatedly done to her.

Massimo remained on the ground at her feet, looking up at her as if she was the sun. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“I don’t want to spend any more time with you than I have to,” she told him. “Call for me when you’re ready tonight. I’m going for a swim.”

Although maybe it made her a coward, she nearly ran to the pool to get away from him, praying he wouldn’t follow: he didn’t. And then she despised that part of herself that was disappointed he hadn’t.


	19. Generous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and Massimo head to the club to do some business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am literally the worst at writing chapter summaries. Sorry, everyone! lol

Laura needled her teeth in her bottom lip, hovering at the top of the staircase. She’d only had a half hour to get ready after Mario arrived at her bedroom door to tell her that she and Massimo were going to his club. She wasn’t sure she’d chosen the right outfit. Not that she was decided on any of the clothing in that closet. All of it was more expensive than she was used to – sexier. Martin never let her wear anything like this. The thought made her frown. When had she allowed him to start dressing her? Fuck him.

“Ohhhhh.”

Laura looked toward the foot of the staircase. Massimo stood with his hands tucked in the pockets of his blue suit, hair plastered back. Everything about him was postured and stylized. He tilted his head at her, mouth opened slightly and eyes wide with amazement.

Laura ran her hands down the glossy gold satin pantsuit. The front was low cut, offering a generous view of her lacy lingerie underneath. It hugged her body like a compliment and somehow embellished her with a ferocious confidence. Otherwise, she probably wouldn’t have been able to face Massimo again.

Even though they’d sparred this morning, in the interim she’d seemed to have forgotten how BIG he was. There was a miniscule, primal part of her that wanted to jump him.

He cleared his throat, as if he read the hungry curiosity on her face. “Are you – are you ready?” he asked.

Laura rolled her eyes. “Would I be here, otherwise? Let’s go. I want to get this over with.” She reached the end of the staircase and strode past him, for the door. He caught her wrist as she passed. His fingers were calloused and deliciously rough on her skin. His hold was light, however, and she easily shook him off.

“Wait,” he said, hurrying to block her before she reached the front door.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “What?”

He reached in his back pocket. “We need to be completely united there, do you understand? There are spies – there will be representatives of the rival mafia there. Everything about this has to be strategic. A show.” He lifted a ring box between them. Laura’s heart nearly exploded in her chest.

Had there been a time she’d hoped that Martin would propose to her? Had she been that desperate for affection that she’d wanted to be chained to him for life?  
Out of her own volition, she reared back from the box. Massimo gauged her reaction, flinching.

“Listen,” he said. “We need to make sure you’re protected. If they think you’re my wife, it will make them think twice before going after you.” He scrutinized her face. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, a remnant of her flare of anger, and clenched her fists in annoyance with herself. “I know what you’re sacrificing to do this, to be here with me. So I want to offer you as much protection as I can.” He flicked the lid of the box upward, revealing the ring. “Please wear it.”

Laura sucked in a breath despite her internal resolution not to be surprised. But it was so unearthly beautiful, she couldn’t help herself. Nestled in the black velvet was a colossal Pink Star diamond. It flashed in the sunset glow streaming through the front windows. One of her hands covered her mouth as she folded herself over the box, enchanting by the almost magical beauty of it.

Massimo gently lifted it from the box. “Your hand,” he said, turning his palm over. Too stunned to disobey, she placed her hand over his and he slid the ring up her finger. It was heavier than she’d expected, solid yet comfortable. Massimo squeezed her hand, a small smile curling the corner of his mouth before he dropped her hand and opened the door.

“Now we’re ready,” he said, satisfied.

Laura struggled to break through the haze. She needed to stop trying to figure out this new lifestyle. Clearly, every time she even got close to accustoming to it, it changed on her.  
The sleek fiery orange sports car parked in the gravel at the front actually excited her. She didn’t typically drive her four door junker. It had a tendency to leak oil and was in and out of the mechanic every month. This car looked as though it ate cars like hers for breakfast. She sprang to the open driver’s door and swung herself behind the wheel.

Massimo climbed in the other side with a laugh. 

“I didn’t know you liked cars,” he said, signaling to the guards who would be accompanying them to the club. Laura ran her hands over the wheel, traced her fingertip along the edge of the dashboard. It smelled distinctly like leather and gasoline.

“Neither did I.” She laughed.

“You can have it. It’s yours.”

She eyed him sideways. “Are you trying to buy me?” she asked. “Throwing all these things at me? Because don’t think I’ve changed my mind.” Her eyes flashed from his hair (really, the style was too strict, too CEO for him) down his chest to his waist, lingering along the lines of his thighs. She cleared her throat. “We aren’t going to bone.” She said it as much to remind herself as him.

He burst out in a startled laugh. Laura was strangely pleased by it. To conceal how happy it made her, she nudged the car forward, the stick shift sweeping through the gears as she let it scream forward, rocketing down the length of the driveway, leading outside the mansion’s grounds.

“No,” he said, “I’m not trying to buy you. What kind of fool would think that would work?”

She appraised him. “Then what’s your angle? What are you trying to do, if not tap this?” She shimmied in her seat a little, high on the adrenaline of driving so fast. They were zooming past one hundred miles an hour, flinging dust clouds into the air behind them.

“I’m trying to show you that I’m not the enemy here. We both want the same thing.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Do we?” She glanced down at his crotch again and then shifted. She really needed to stop looking at him. The senseless desire to claw through his hair and shake it out of its shape wouldn’t leave her head. It was unconscious – trying to lay claim to him. To reconfigure him as how she wanted. Which was ridiculous. Because they were not a thing. Nope, and wouldn’t be, either.

They veered sharply around a corner and she released a gleeful howl. Massimo grabbed the door handle. “Easy, there, baby girl. Try not to drive us over the edge of the cliff.”

She snorted. “As if! Okay, we’re coming up to the intersection –which way next?”

“My bed,” he said.

Laura fumbled with the stick shift, briefly grinding the gears. She cringed. “What did you just say?” she said.

He blinked, confused. “Left?”

She whipped them left and punched the gas pedal down again. The roar of the engine drowned her thoughts and worked like a white noise machine, calming her. For the rest of the drive to the club, she didn’t dare look over at Massimo and only gave him enough attention to keep them going in the right direction.

Get a hold of yourself, Laura, she told herself. You’re entering enemy territory now.

She glanced down at the ring on her hand. It flashed at her, a sultry promise that she didn’t have time for, and tightened her hands against the wheel. She hoped she was indeed ready for whatever was going to happen tonight.


	20. A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction to Marcelo - Massimo's enemy and also featuring some chaotic sexual tension, dancing, and mutual!pining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Here's the latest and greatest! I feel like it's finally starting to plot? IDK, plot is my nemesis. I am so sorry for all the meandering, lol! We'll get there eventually, I promise. ;)
> 
> Hope you like it 
> 
> XOXOXO

Massimo got out of the car first, coming around the front to open Laura's door for her. She allowed it, mainly due to the fact that she was gaping at the club. Sure, she’d been to a few in her time, but this – this place stole her breath. Her heart beat so fast she pressed a hand to her chest, trying to slow it down.

Strobe lights stroked pinks and golds across the walkway winding up toward the mirrored double doors, dark as an oil spill. The people waiting in line to enter were flashier than Laura had ever encountered and she immediately felt overdressed in her shimmering jumpsuit. The theme seemed to be tall, gothic, skimpy, and gorgeous. There was no way she classified as any of those things.

Her heart rocketed its rhythm. Anxiety whispered to her, asking what she thought she was doing here.

A warm hand pressed against her low back and she nearly jumped out of her skin, until she saw that it was Massimo. He pulled her closer, frowning.

“Are you all right?” He had no right sounding that concerned for her. “Do you need a moment before we go inside?”

Charlotte and Domenico appeared at his shoulder. They looked ready to haul her away at a moment’s notice. As if they could get rid of her that easily. Laura snorted.  
“I’m fine,” she said. She peeled herself away from Massimo, momentarily distracted by the tips of his fingers running across her back before she moved out of his reach. “It’s no big deal. You startled me, is all.” She crossed her arms, to prove to him that arguing was futile. After scrutinizing her to see if she would remain firm in her decision, he offered her his hand. 

“For show,” he explained.

She hesitated to touch him. Hand holding seemed unnecessarily intimate. The thought of her palm against his slammed her back to their moment earlier, in the courtyard. Good thing he wasn’t her type. Swallowing hard, she laced her fingers through his. He cinched their hands tightly together. 

“Okay, everyone, you know what to do. Reconnoiter only. Regroup in an hour.” He nodded to the guards before tugging on Laura’s hand and leading her for the doors.

“Massimo,” the bouncer called, at their approach. “My friend, what’s been keeping you?” She snapped her fingers, and her assistant opened both doors for them. “Careful,” she said, once they stood in the doorway, “Marcelo is here tonight.”

Massimo’s hand tightened around Laura’s. “Thank you,” he said, stepping past her.

Laura peered up at the profile of the man as he scanned the vestibule of the club. It was the first time she’d heard the name Marcelo mentioned, but there was something about Massimo’s reaction to it that made her whoever Marcelo was, he belonged to the rival mafia gang. So she hated him on principle.

“Do we separate to canvas the room?” she asked.

Massimo blinked and looked down at her, a curious smile she couldn’t interpret twisting his mouth.

“You aren’t going anywhere. Stay here. I’m going upstairs to the loft. For business,” he added, when she arched an eyebrow. “Charlotte and Domenico are going to check the perimeter of the room. If you need anything,” he tapped her earpiece, as a reminder.

He patted the side of her face (patted, really, what was she, an endearing pet?). “See you in an hour.” 

Too late for her to bite him, he withdrew his fingers and strode off for the balcony. Evidently, too cool or too dangerous for her to accompany him. He’d never mentioned this earlier. This didn’t feel useful. Why had he asked her along if he was just going to abandon her in a sea of writhing bodies?

Fuck that. Who needed him? Laura elbowed her way past the people – so many people, the majority of them ridiculously tall with their long legs and even longer high heels. She reached the bar unscathed, however, and rattled her knuckles against the countertop to release some of her attention. The bartender swept over and within minutes, Laura cradled her poison of choice. It was actually her disguise – to make it look like she was enjoying this, that she wanted to be here, that she was out tonight to party while she made rounds of her own through the room.

Party. It seemed wrong to even think the word. Guilt accompanied any other thought that wasn’t thinking single mindedly about her family and friends. A year to be separated from them seemed like such a long time. She’d never been away from them for that long in her life. Every couple weekends, she visited her parents. Olga and her, of course, were inseparable.

She drank deeply, invigorated by the caustic burn in her throat. With a cough, she scanned the crowds. The “suspicious activity” she’d been told to look for didn’t seem to exist in this part of the club: the music was primal and throbbing – a call to the most feral aspect of humanity there was. It strummed against Laura’s nerves, needy, pleading. She wandered toward the dance floor, eyeing the way everyone was dancing. It looked effortless, as though everyone was secretly a marionette controlled by the bass line of the music.  
She swung her hips in a circle, drinking again as she turned. Charlotte nodded at her from the corner she’d stationed herself at. Another turn, and she saw Domenico. Every side brought her another glimpse of Massimo’s allies. Regardless of Marcelo’s presence, whoever he might be, there was no danger here. Not tonight, anyway.

The music electrified Laura. Her body rolled with it and without making the decision, she found herself dancing. Rocking her hips in a sensual circle, she raised an arm over her head and tipped back the rest of her drink. A pair of black eyes met her on the other side when she lowered her glass. Laura’s heart paused, but only for a split second. This was a dance floor at a club; she was bound to meet a stranger’s eyes.

However, this particular stranger was as beautiful as sin: he was lean and tall, his dress shirt unbuttoned to reveal his sharp collar bones and the swirling tip of a tattoo over his left pectoral. His black hair was long and soft, spilling down on his forehead. One of his ears was pierced, and a black teardrop pearl dangled from his lobe.

Laura was intrigued. She watched him circle her. Every move he made was liquid and gliding. She dropped her glass on a passing serving tray, then allowed herself to mirror the stranger, to echo his rhythm. It felt nice to have someone attracted to her. She’d turned off the part of her mind that found other people attractive for the longest time that the sight of this man with his molten eyes and his predator smile stirred something wicked within her.

Without looking away from him, she stepped forward into his space, close enough to touch but keeping that fraction of an inch between them as she lifted both arms above her head. The music possessed her. Her body tried to mimic his liquid movements, shimmying and swaying. She licked her lips, tossing her head back.

His hands caught her by the hips, spinning her to face away from him. A grin spread across her face. She relished the friction when he pressed their bodies together. As one, they moved. He reached forward to drag his finger down her cheek.

“So the rumors are true,” he said, fingers vicious against her skin. She yelped as he tightened his grip on her. “Massimo has a new pet.”

She froze.

“Allow me to introduce myself.” He swiveled her to face him. “I’m Marcelo.”

Laura’s eye twitched. Teeth clenched, she grabbed his arm, pivoting to ram her hips against him. With his arm twisted over her shoulder, she flipped him to the ground at her feet.

Motherfucker. 

She lifted her head to glare at Massimo as he casually lumbered across the dance floor toward them. 

“Bait? Really? Do I have no value to you whatsoever?” she snapped.

He gave her a look that made her stop breathing. His eyes were hot and affectionate, and they flicked up and down her body. She stuck her tongue out at him in an attempt to calm her frazzled nerves. Honestly, he was using her. She shouldn’t find him so irresistibly attractive.

“Look at your training in action,” he cooed, then signaled his guards, who appeared out of the sea of dancers to surround Marcelo where he sprawled on his stomach on the floor. “Now that you’ve fished out the rat, let’s have a discussion, shall we?” He kicked Marcelo’s thigh.

The rival mafia leader didn’t resist as the guards hauled him to his feet and escorted him across the room toward the staircase leading to one of the private balconies. Laura trailed behind Massimo to the foot of the staircase. She expected him to stop her at the bottom, tell her that this was his job now, and that she needed to wait down below.

To her surprise, he reached his hand out for her, though he carefully trained his gaze straight ahead. Laura wished she hadn’t had the alcohol. Or had taken something to keep calm. Her heart was in overdrive. Were they finally reaching even ground? Was he going to start trusting her at last? She rubbed her thumb along his hand, and waited until he met her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, “for knowing I can handle myself.”

Massimo smiled. “The only thing better than watching you flip my enemy to the ground like a sack of potatoes,” he said, “would be having you flip me onto your bed.”

Laura’s eyes widened. “What did you just say?”

He guided her closer, until they were standing so close their hips pressed against each other. Forget what she'd said about Marcelo being as beautiful as sin; she hadn't seen the wolfish grin Massimo coined just now. THAT was beautiful as sin. “I said, I want you to top me in bed.”

On the inside, she caught on fire. She wanted to touch him – everywhere. Could picture him in her bed, cuffed, locked down, trapped. Desire flared through her and she unconsciously made a needy sound in the back of her throat. Massimo opened his mouth, but before he could say whatever it was – honestly, if he told her this moment that he wanted her to take the lead and – 

“He’s ready for you, Massimo.” Domenico looked down at the two of them, shattering the moment.

Without realizing it, Laura had shifted closer against Massimo, draping her body over his arm, their hands tangled together low against her stomach. 

“And we’re ready for him. Right?” He looked at her for affirmation. Laura nodded, releasing a breath. Her body felt scorched and hungry.

A little space is good, she tried to reassure herself. It will give you time to think about your actions and decide if you actually want this.

Hand in hand, the two of them climbed the staircase to interrogate the enemy.


	21. Laps Around You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Massimo and Laura speak with Marcelo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! I have returned! Mwahahaha so sorry I haven't updated in a while. :D I keep saying that I'll update more frequently and then I don't.  
> My apologies to everyone I've kept waiting. I hope you like it! <3

Vicious red lightning traced the contours of the darkened room on the second floor. 

Massimo’s guards stood in each corner. Two were posted on either side of Marcelo. He seemed to have recovered from being flipped by Laura. He stretched his arms along the back of the couch. The look he gave her when she entered the room with Massimo, however, was cool. 

Laura clamped down on the ripple of nerves that spread goosebumps her skin. She tightened her grip on Massimo’s hand. He squeezed back, peering down at her.

Unified, she thought, stroking a finger against the side of his hand. 

Massimo cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders back. 

Hand in hand, they approached Marcelo. With a subtle nod at one of his guards, Massimo waited for a chair to be pulled over and he sat down on it. After a moment of Laura awkwardly standing in front of the chair, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her backward until she was seated in his lap.

Laura nearly lurched right out of the chair again, but he coiled his arm around her waist and held her tightly in place so she couldn’t escape. Inside her body, sirens were going off, echoed by the frantic command to abort mission. She wasn’t going to last three minutes, seated on him like this. She wiggled uselessly in his grip, which she decided at once was a very bad idea when he lifted his hips against her. He was hard. Damn. Laura barely managed to hold back the needy keen in the back of her throat.

Marcelo blinked at them, inquisitive, head tilted to the side.

“Quit squirming,” Massimo hissed, barely a breath, in Laura’s ear. “It’s…distracting.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear. His voice was liquid, pouring through her body and blazing a trail of heat behind it. Bloody hell, he was going to set her on fire. 

She shook her head.

Snap out of it, Laura, she told herself. Focus.

“You’ve trained her, haven’t you?” Marcelo said. 

He leaned forward on the couch and rested his elbows on his knees. He licked his lips while he studied her, eyes tracing down her body until his gaze fell on her feet, dangling midair because she was too short to reach the floor – especially with the added height from sitting on Massimo.

“I must commend you for that. Smart move. Of course, also incredibly foolish. It isn’t going to save her. And you know there are worse men than me out there.” He cocked his head.

Massimo’s arm around Laura’s waist turned constricting.

“Tell me. If you genuinely thought I was a threat to your latest acquisition, would you have actually come here? And don’t insult me by lying.”

“I make it a point to never underestimate my enemies, regardless how useless they are,” Massimo said, with a scoff. He huffed a breath against Laura’s neck. 

She tingled. If she arched a little bit, hoping he would breathe on her again, well, that was her business, wasn’t it?

“Come now, Massimo,” Marcelo said. He snapped his fingers at one of the guards. “Drink, please. It’s the least you could do, since you unleashed your pet on me.”

Laura gripped Massimo’s thighs for balance when he lurched in the chair. 

“She’s not my fucking pet,” he snarled.

Marcelo lifted his hands. “Fine, fine. Whatever you say.” His eyes flicked to the ring on her hand. The sniff he gave was filled with judgment. “Moving past that,” he continued, after one of Massimo’s guards reluctantly brought a bottle forward and Marcelo had poured himself a glass. “You and I know that we both want the same thing. I’m not the problem. Or not the real one, anyway. There’s someone else in the city, trying to sabotage us. They need to be stopped.” His eyes turned sharp. 

Laura wondered how she had found him attractive, earlier. The more she studied him, the more she realized there was an undercurrent of something ferocious about him. He was not a man you would want to encounter unprepared. That was why Massimo had been so careful not to approach him first, why he had used Laura. It had been more of a test than anything else, for both of them.

Massimo laughed. “If you think I’d ever make an alliance with you, you’re mistaken. Have you forgotten your recent transgressions or shall I remind you?”

Laura had almost forgotten she was gripping Massimo’s thighs until his muscles shifted under her hands. She tipped her head to look at his face. He looked back at her. There was a lack of focus, she could tell. Was it her doing? 

The corner of her mouth curled upward. She wanted to tease him. Tease him because there were no repercussions. He’d promised, after all, and there was a part of her that wanted revenge for what he’d made her do, earlier. How he kept withholding vital information from her. Up to this point, she had assumed Marcelo was the problem. Now it seemed there was someone else much worse threatening both the men’s empires.

“I just think that we need to be smart about this. I’ve lost numbers. Women and men killed. They’re trying to send a message. Scare me off.” Marcelo drank from his glass without breaking eye contact with Massimo. “And I think you know more about it than you’re letting on. So, if you’re going to go after this son of a bitch, I want in.” He grinned. “I can call truce for that long, at least. While we have a common enemy.”

Massimo lifted his chin to rest it against the side of Laura’s head. She tried to clamp down on the smile that suddenly wanted to consume her face. Biting her lip, she curved her hand down over the side of Massimo’s thigh and dragged it up to his hip, slow and firm – he needed to know it was intentional.

Massimo shifted, trying to move away from Laura’s hand. She eased herself closer against him, rocking her hips a little as she made herself more comfortable on his lap.   
His fingers pressed tight against her side. Each digit ignited a spark where he touched her. His hands were so big. They practically spanned her entire rib cage.

“You have given me no reason to trust you,” Massimo said.

Marcelo raised his eyebrows. “To tell you the truth, I’m surprised we’re even having this conversation. I suspect the only reason it is happening is sitting in your lap.”

Massimo lifted Laura’s chin to look at her face. He had wiped it nearly emotionless. It was practically a challenge Laura could not refuse. She slipped a hand between their bodies, trailing her fingers downward. His eyes flared wide.

“What sort of alliance did you have in mind?” Massimo asked, breaking eye contact with Laura. He caught her hand and stopped its descent.

Honestly, she didn’t know what had come over her. She only knew that she wanted to touch him. Badly.

“I’ll tell you,” Marcelo said, rising from the couch. “But first, let’s go somewhere more private. I’d rather not be ambushed again.”

Massimo, panicked from the way Laura gripped his thighs again to hoist herself to her feet, practically tossed her from his lap. He rose beside her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders, fitting her back against his side. 

Laura smirked to herself. He could not seem to decide if he wanted her farther from him, or if he wanted her stitched to his skin.

Massimo’s guards escorted Marcelo ahead of them. After waiting a few minutes for them to get him down the staircase and outside, Massimo glanced down at Laura. His eyes flashed with Laura’s favorite kind of danger. It reminded her of the night they first met. She smiled innocently up at him and started for the door.

“Wait, Laura,” Massimo said. He nodded to the remaining guards to exit the room in front of them.

Laura turned to glance at Massimo over her shoulder. “Yes?” she said. She batted her eyelashes, shameless.

He released a breath, hands fisted at his sides. “What are you doing?”

“Doing?” she said. “I’m not doing anything. Must be imagining things. Could be the guilt from using me as bait, maybe? Anyway, let’s g -” She’d pivoted on her heel, heading for the door when Massimo grabbed her shoulders and whirled her back around to face him.

“Please don’t tease me,” he said, dipping down to her height. “I’m trying to behave for you, and you’re making it incredibly…”

Laura didn’t try to stop her smile this time. She let it spread across her face, absolutely wicked, and she reached forward, tugging him by his belt to guide him closer.

“Hard?” she finished for him. 

Massimo’s chest swelled with a breath as she trailed a finger down from his belt to his crotch.

“It isn’t safe here,” he said, though it seemed more a reminder for himself than her. 

Laura had never felt more in control of herself in her life. She could tease him all day long without getting tired of it.

“What a shame,” she said, rising up on tiptoe. His mouth was mere inches away. The idea to bite his lips possessed her for a brief moment and she almost acted on the impulse before she caught herself and let her heels drop back to the floor. “I was just thinking how nice it would be to let you take me against the wall. Oh, well.” She withdrew from him and strode away before he could prevent her. 

A thrill chased through her when he came up behind her on the staircase and rested his hand against the small of her back.

“Tyrant,” she thought she heard him mutter under his breath.

“What?” she said. “Did you say something?”

"Let's get this over with," he said.


	22. Try This Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcelo invites Laura and Massimo to his mansion to go over the information he has on the new enemy who has been targeting them both. Laura can't help herself from continuing to tease Massimo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue Adele* Hello, it's me!!
> 
> I would make some excuses for myself and why I've been posting new chapters so sporadically, but like Laura, I am shameless.
> 
> Here's an update. *blows kiss and sinks back into the abyss*
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Massimo kept his hand on Laura's waist all the way down the staircase, across the dance floor, and back outside. He kept it there while one of his men retrieved the car. 

Marcelo was giving him directions on where to meet up. Marcelo suggested his private residence, which made Massimo's hand tighten around Laura's waist. The heat of his palm absorbed through her shirt and ignited her skin. She tilted her head back to look up at him.

"If you think that we're going to fall for that, you're mistaken. I will consider what you mentioned."

A sleek black limousine pulled up in front of the building and Marcelo's attendants opened the door for him. He started toward it. "I'll give you three days, Massimo. If you don't ally with me by then, I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands. Enough lives have been lost. Someone needs to stop them before anyone else gets killed." His gaze flickered over to Laura. There was something in his eyes that made goosebumps prickle across her skin. She stiffened.

"Is that a threat?" Massimo growled.

Marcelo slid sunglasses up his nose. "What? No. When have I ever threatened you, you fool? Don't forget," he said, sweeping inside the limousine. "Three days. After that, it's fair game. And I don't care how pretty your new toy is. No one's going to be safe until they have been eliminated." The door closed and the limousine pulled away from the front of the building. The next vehicle in line behind them was Massimo's car. It rumbled to a stop in front of them. Laura started to move forward but Massimo tugged her backward.

"Wait," he said, "Something isn't right."

Laura threaded her fingers in his shirt, twisting with him to glance at the steps behind them, at the club where everything seemed to have rotated on its axis. She was not sure what he expected, perhaps for more madness to hurtle itself at them. But the limousine merely pulled away into the night, leaving them standing together. Massimo vibrated with tension, staring down the road where the limousine had vanished.

"Come on," Laura said. "He said he would give you three days to make up your mind. Let's go."

Massimo blinked and stared down at her. His lashes seemed especially thick and dark, right then, the eyes they framed so generously more vulnerable than Laura could ever recall seeing them. He pressed his lips tightly together, slowly withdrawing from her, as though only just now he had realized how closely they were standing together. He cleared his throat.

"You're right," he said. "Let's go home."

The car ride home was quiet and chaste. None of the electric atmosphere that had propelled them to the club, or even the sort that had electrocuted them while at the club, had lingered with them. Laura could not decide if she was grateful or disappointed. Not that her mind boggling attraction to this ridiculous mafia leader was something she should be fixating on. A new ally or enemy had presented himself. If it were up to Laura, she would not trust him. Trusting him seemed to suggest going deeper into this world than she already was.

Laura nibbled on her lip, glancing over at Massimo. She realized the car had stopped and he was staring blankly out the windshield.

"You aren't actually considering trusting him, are you?" she asked, poking him in the ribs.

Massimo jolted from the touch, staring down at her fingers until she withdrew her hand. HIs eyes darted to her face. "I trust no one," he said.

Laura's lip curled and she unbuckled her seat belt, rising out of her seat with one hand braced on the headrest of his seat as she leaned over him. "Not even me?" She blinked at him slowly. Massimo's hand reached toward her before pausing and falling back to his lap. His breathing quickened.

"I trust you least of all," he whispered. His gaze landed on her mouth. She licked her lips - she could not help it, it was instinct. The way he looked at her, like he wanted to devour her was stealing all the common sense from her head. She was transported back to the night they met on a dance floor. Laura had never been attracted to anyone the way she was attracted to him. There was something magnetic about him that lured out the carnal desires in her. She needed to quell them. Her boyfriend had just cheated on her. Of course, they were over. She was allowed to...find other people attractive. But the last person she should allow herself to be captivated by was the man who had led her into this mess.

With a sigh, Laura drew back from him and reached for the door handle, retreating from the car into the cool breath of night. The grounds looked monstrous around them, cast in ebony shadow.

"Laura," Massimo said, "Where are you going?"

She half turned where she stood to look at him, rounding the front fender of the car. The weight of the ring on her hand was an anchor that held her rooted in place, despite the sudden panicked urge to flee into the mansion and hide from him. She was afraid of what she might do in his proximity. The needs of her body cried out for him, for the relief that he would bring her. It had been so long since she had been well and truly satisfied. She had no doubt that he would do a very thorough job, if she asked him. 

"Inside," Laura said. "I'm tired." It was a lie. Desire thrummed through her veins. She had never been less tired in her life. if she had the nerve, she would take his hands and guide them to her waist. She would rise up on her tiptoes and lift her face to his for him to kiss.

"We still need to talk about what happened." He crossed his arms, and for some reason, it seemed to accentuate his sculpted muscles beneath his shirt. Laura could not entirely hide the groan that escaped her. He raised an eyebrow. "Your behavior at the club. I thought - if you want to - I'm open to whatever - we can have more than..."

Laura smirked at the way he struggled. "What are you saying? That you can't handle a little flirting? Has it been that long since you've had any?" She made sure he saw her look at his crotch. She tilted her chin and allowed her grin to stretch wider.

"I can handle flirting fine," Massimo said, almost brusquely, "but I - hey. Hey! My eyes are up here, baby girl."

Laura rolled her eyes and continued sashaying toward the mansion. "Fuck off. Stop calling me baby girl."

She turned to tease him and realized he was actually right behind her. Her hand fell on the door handle, but he was standing so close that she could feel the heat of his body radiating through his shirt. His proximity startled her enough that she forgot to go inside, and instead relished every place where their bodies accidently met.

"Baby girl," he said again, and Laura hated the way she closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, intoxicating as a drug in her system. "Why would I stop when every time I say it you just..." He trailed off, the tips of his fingers stroking as soft as velvet down her arm, "React like that?"

"I don't react like anything," she snapped, breaking away from him to head inside. Massimo closed the door behind them.

"Ah, you're back! I need to -" Charlotte strode forward, but Massimo waved her off.

Laura started making a hasty retreat for her room. If she was stuck in his company one more second, she was going to make a choice that she would regret later.

"Not now, Charlotte," Massimo said. "Laura, Laura, hold on a second. We are not finished with this conversation yet."

"I am." Laura was not done with the conversation, but she was done with him. She reached the hallway leading to her room and quickened her pace. Unfortunately, Massimo and his sasquatch legs reached her before she could hide inside her room.

"Tell me the truth. Please." He slipped around her to block her path.

A furious, sexually frustrated blush heated Laura's cheeks. Damn if he was not desirable. She wanted to lean in and nibble up his thighs, to claw down his massive shoulders and back. To kiss his luscious mouth until she forgot her ex-boyfriend's name.

Laura threw her arms in the air. "The truth about what?"

His eyes turned impossibly wolfish and dark. "Do you want me?


	23. I Want It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura gives in to temptation and sexy times. XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to everyone who is still interested in more. I am so terrible at updating, sorry to keep you waiting. :)

The smudged darkness of the corridor, like a charcoal covered canvas, played with Laura's senses. A steady electric thrum bristled through her body, arching her upward like a wave. With deliberate slowness, Laura dragged her fingers up Massimo's massive shoulders, curved them around his neck. She cinched them tight, lifting herself closer against him. He released a startled breath. 

They might be caught in the middle of a crazy situation right now. Mafias and gangs and break ups. Laura's entire world might be upside down, but there was a tantalizing aspect to it. She finally had the opportunity to see what she could do, how she could handle herself doing things no one would ever have expected her to do. Euphoria spilled through her. With a roll of her hips, she twined herself as close against Massimo as two clothed bodies could get.

Massimo grabbed her waist, one hand sliding down past her lower back to curve around her and contour her against him. A deep groan rumbled in the back of his throat. "Well?" he rasped, dipping his head and nuzzling the side of her neck. The rough of his stubble felt so incredibly good that she nearly cried out. Her fingers carved sharply against his shoulders and she tipped her head back further.

"Laura," Massimo whispered.

His breath stroked her neck. She whined, shifting against him, wanting to feel his mouth on her neck. She had a sudden vision of him biting her there, and it drove her half wild.

"I-I want you," she admitted, "I want you right now. I want you so much I can't breathe. Massimo, I -"

He took her face between his hands and kissed her mouth. Starved for physical affection, Laura kissed him back - brutal, hungry, biting. One of her hands lifted to claw through his hair, while the other frantically reached behind her, fumbling for the doorknob to her room. She needed to get him on a bed, now. Needed to get out of the corridor and into a private space where she could just unleash on him. He was so big and she was possessed by the desire to break him.

His kisses were deep and sensual, igniting the most ferocious bits of her brain and sending wildfires through her veins. He laughed when she made a frustrated sound, briefly breaking from him to fling the door open. He ducked down to kiss her again and Laura grabbed him by the front of the shirt, yanking him inside and slamming him against the wall. Roughly, she shoved his shirt up over his stomach and licked across his abs to his hipbone, where she sank her teeth.

Massimo groaned, his hips canting toward her. She smirked against his skin and glanced up at him through her lashes. What was it about him that turned on this aggressive part of her brain? She just wanted to lock him down and -

His eyes flashed, as if he read her thoughts, and he reached for her again, to rake her up against his body, his knee sliding between her legs. Laura grabbed his wrists and pinned them against the wall behind him. "Hold on. Is this a good idea? I feel like it's not." Laura laughed, breathless.

Massimo leaned forward and pressed a series of sloppy kisses across her face. "I don't care if it's a good idea or not. I just want you to keep touching me. Please, please, Laura." His tongue stroked inside her mouth and Laura momentarily lost common sense, captured by the heat of him, by the impossible chemistry of his hands, slowly sliding his fingers around her wrists, so she was the one trapped. He pushed his hands all the way up to her elbows, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. She shivered as he continued to kiss her, tilting his head for a deeper angle, while he slowly walked them backward. Laura barely registered when the back of her calves hit the edge of the mattress.

Her fingers tugged at his shirt. "I want this off," she said, between kisses.

"I want to get you off," he said, with a filthy grin, before pushing her backward onto the mattress.

Laura laughed as she bounced. "Wow, so seductive," she teased, rising up on her elbows. "Is that how you- oh!" He curled his hands around her knees and dragged her to the edge of the mattress. His gaze was predatory and it riled something in Laura. She arched an eyebrow. "I dare you," she said. "Eat me."

His dark eyes fixed on her, and right then, she felt consumed and seen and sexual in a way she had never felt her entire life.

"As you wish," he said. Taking hold of the front of her jumpsuit, he tore it in half right down the middle and exposed her on the bed in front of him. Laura was both aroused and flabbergasted.

"What the fuck," she stammered. "What are you, some sort of -" She stopped short of caveman, because by then, he was tugging her lingerie off and tossing it over his shoulder, then leaning in to kiss beneath her belly button, straight down between her legs and she couldn't help her bark, couldn't stop herself from reflexively arching off the mattress.

The brief thought, like a stop sign flashing through her mind, that they should be having a conference with Charlotte, Domenico, Mario, and the others about what to do next, what their next move shoulder be, made Laura pause. But she had been sensible all this time, and just once, just this once, she wanted to give in to her desires. To give in to - 

Massimo licked her where she wanted him most desperately and the sound that came out of her mouth was primal. "Do that again," she ordered, lifting herself off the mattress just enough to meet his eye. Massimo dimpled and the sight of him right there, the warmth of his breath on her skin, the vicious, sparkling promise in his eye, might possibly be the most gorgeous thing Laura had ever seen.

Obediently, he did it again, and Laura could have cried at the contact, at the relief of the intimacy. He felt so sinfully good. She could not even remember the last time Martin had done this, had made her feel so pent up and satisfied at the same time.

"Massimo," she said, voice gravelly.

Someone knocked on the door. "Not to interrupt," Mario said through the door panels, "But did I just hear that you made a deal with fucking Marcelo?"


	24. Delayed Gratification

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Massimo and Laura meet with the rest of the crew to give them the low down on Marcelo's ultimatum. Also, Laura can't behave herself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* Did you miss me?

"So, here's the thing," Massimo said, both of his large hands spread on the conference table. "Do we trust this bastard to take down an enemy who is targeting us both, long enough to win? Because he will ultimately betray us." He glanced at each person gathered at the table: Domenico, Mario, Charlotte. Other guards and operatives who served under Massimo. He examined Laura last, because she was seated next to him. To be honest, she was having a hard time attuning to the conversation. She was inches away from him, still locked in the memory of being pulled to the edge of the mattress, with his mouth caressing the most intimate part of her body. That had been a mere half hour ago. He had barely been able to touch her before they were interrupted. 

Laura crossed her legs and struggled to pay attention.

"It isn't about trust," Mario said. "It's about usefulness. Can we make him be useful long enough to gain dominance over this new enemy?" His eyes darted between Massimo and Laura. Disapproval clouded his gaze, and when it fell directly on Laura, she squirmed uncomfortably. She didn't care that he did not approve of her. What she did care about, however, was seeing how stealthy she could be...Keeping her gaze on the others in the room, she lifted her hand beneath the security of the table and reached over to grab Massimo's knee. His body jolted and he looked down at her sharply from where he stood over the table.

Laura widened her eyes innocently, trying to look as doe-eyed as possible. 

Massimo swallowed. He shifted out of her reach. "He wants us to meet with him to discuss particulars, in his home. I am inclined to leave him to his own resources, but I'm intrigued. What if we could use this to our advantage. Not just usefulness, but as a chance to take over his area as well?"

"One enemy at a time, Massimo," Domenico said, with a side glance at Mario.

Laura shifted her chair on pretext of moving closer to the table, but she subtly slid it nearer to Massimo. With her elbow on the table, she cupped her chin in one hand and tried to look as bored and not turned on as possible. Her other hand gripped his thigh. He quivered under her touch.

"Are you actually considering this? Teaming up with your enemy?"

Massimo flinched, not from the words spat at him from across the table, but from Laura curving her fingers sharply against the back of his thigh and sliding upward. Just slightly. Just enough. There was an internal fire in her body and he had left her that way. Left her unsatisfied. It circled her back to someone else. Someone who had recently betrayed her. Devastated her. Was it because she wanted to get back at him that she wanted Massimo? Was it only because she had been neglected for so long that she was willing to let this mafia leader enter her body? Touch her? Fuck, if she didn't care. She wanted to feel his mouth again on her skin. His tongue and teeth. She wanted the oblivion of lust to consume her and wash everything else away. Then, she would be able to handle things again. Once, she was certain, would be enough. She wouldn't be tempted to do it again.

"I don't see it as teaming up with Marcelo. I consider it more...taking advantage of an expendable enemy." Massimo glanced down at Laura. She nearly lost her nerve at the hunger in his eyes. Martin had never reacted to her touch this way. She couldn't believe she had clung to him as long as she had, with the way their relationship had been going. What did she think was going to happen? That he would wake up one day and love her the way she wanted to be loved? She deserved someone who...who reacted to her like this. Like her very touch was gasoline to flame, and he was exploding with desire.

But Massimo wasn't a safe person to have these feelings for. He had a tangled past. More enemies than stars in the sky. Maybe she shouldn't be tempting him like this. Not when she was going to leave him behind. They could not afford to even be attracted to one another like this. Because attraction, for Laura at least, tended to lead to other things. And she would never get those things with a man who might be killed by his enemies any day.

Abruptly, she unclamped her hand from his leg and tucked it beneath her legs.

"Well," Mario said, "I see there's no point in arguing. You've made up your mind. When are you leaving to meet him?"

Massimo was studying Laura, but she was not looking at him. Damn. She ought to have been more careful. What was she thinking? For the first time since she had heard the knock on the door, she was relieved that they had been forced to stop. What needed to happen now was an extrication - a separation of physicality between them. She would have to put the boundaries back up. There were other, less dangerous men she could use to sate her lust.

"Tomorrow," Massimo said, without looking away from Laura. "Please make arrangements. Everyone except Laura get out of the room," he added.

Laura shoved away from the table, leaping to her feet. "If we're going to be meeting him tomorrow," she said, "I think I need to get some sleep. To prepare." She put special emphasis on 'sleep' to make sure he understood that they were not going any further than they already had.

"No," Massimo said, and in his voice there was no room for argument. Laura might have contested it, but there were too many witnesses watching curiously, and also, she didn't feel like being taken over his shoulder like some sort of child, and he had a look in his eye that suggested he was not above doing such a thing in front of everyone.

"Fine." She crossed her arms, watching with a shiver as everyone filed out of the room. Charlotte lifted one eyebrow at her, and Laura bit her lip, wishing for once in her life she would make a good decision.

The door closed behind the last of Massimo's employees, and then Laura reluctantly lifted her eyes to him. 

He bent slowly, taking hold of the arms of the chair and swiveling her to face him, drawing her closer, his legs straddling hers. Laura tried to curb the acceleration of her heartbeat, but he was just so big, and close, and the memory of his hands and mouth on her was too recent to resist. She squeaked when he lowered his face to hers. She thought he might kiss her. Instead, though, he stared into her eyes.

"What happened? I thought I was going to have to tie your hands to the chair to keep them to yourself, and then, you stopped? Do you - not want me, anymore? You don't want to keep going? Because," he laced his fingers through hers, "I still want you. I want to taste you. I want you spread out and eager for me, again." He lifted their intertwined fingers to his mouth and delicately kissed across her fingertips.

Laura released a mangled breath. "I - I don't think it's a good idea," she said. She was surprised by how breathy and needy she sounded. Massimo's eyes sparkled. He ducked his face closer, to whisper against her ear. His lips brushed against the shell of her ear, absolutely delicious and deep, with his gorgeous accent that turned her bones to liquid.

"Oh, I agree. It's a terrible idea. But the taste of you is going to haunt me all night if we don't. I won't be able to sleep, for wanting you so desperately."

"Oh, fuck it," Laura said, a little desperately, "Just once. Once can't hurt."

Massimo gave her a wicked grin. "Not unless you want it to."

Laura's eyes widened, but Massimo was already taking her face between his hands and kissing her.

Damn, he could kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
